Overcoming Darkness
by robinyj
Summary: Evil has taken up residence in Minas Tirith and people are dying. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli work to stop it but this new evil may be after one of their own. {Chapter 5}
1. Surprises in the Woods

Title: Overcoming Darkness

Category: Action/Adventure, Angst, H/C

Summary: Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli return home after a hard journey, but find Gondor not how they left it. An evil cult now resides in Minas Tirith and people are dying. It is up to our heroes to stop these men before they complete their final sacrifice and plunge all of Middle-Earth into darkness.

_I own nothing. Wait, I have some lint in my pocket. Enjoy._

_A/N – This story is a sequel to my last LotR fic, The Stone of Malinya, but it can be read as a standalone as well. The only information you need to know is that Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli are returning to Gondor after a two month trip to a border country of Brelan. While there, Legolas was nearly killed by a group of rebels, and to save his life Aragorn and Gimli used The Stone of Malinya, a magic elf stone, to bring him back to life. The stone used their energy to revive Legolas and this caused a connection (mental, emotional) to form between the three of them. They can't read each other's mind or anything, they just can feel one another's intense emotions and know when one of them is in danger. I suggest reading that fic first, but if you don't understand something just ask, I'll explain._

_I didn't think I had another LotR epic in me, but I had this idea and it is just blossoming in my head. I hope you all like it. I think you will because I'm really excited about writing it, I think it's original and of course it's going to have a lot of angst, but I really like some of the ideas I have for it. For that reason I think chapters will be coming out quickly as I am very eager to write it. Anyway, here's the first chapter so sit back and enjoy. Hope to hear from you, but if I don't, thanks for reading._

Middle Earth is a land full of fantasy, magic, and assortments of different folk ranging from Elves, to Dwarves, to Men and Hobbits. Countless adventures have been had in this land, only the smallest fraction of which are ever known or told. This is one of those stories, told in its entirety. Take it as you will.

Overcoming Darkness

By Robinyj

In the forests of Gondor, just beyond the borders of Minas Tirith, the trees were tall and thick. Over the years they had grown so large that their immense branches splayed across one another, blocking out all but the tiniest slivers of light. It was in this forest that a small group of riders made their way home, weary from battle and hardships, but light with thoughts of home, beds and ale. A bird flying overhead would see five men in uniform, distinguishing them as royal guards, a weather worn man with dark hair and noble eyes, and a final horse with two riders, one a great warrior of royal blood and Elvish descent, and the other sitting behind him, smaller in stature, but also a great fighter, and currently tormenting the first with another tale of his great battles.

 "They were all around me you see, not a place to hide. Coming in from all sides as they were and I knew they were not so honorable as to fight me one on one. My only choice was to battle my way through and reach the gap, which I did not mind, but the poor child behind me was so terribly frightened, I knew I had to protect him …"

 "Child?" Legolas enquired, confused.

 "Well, practically a child. Estevan or something like that. He was almost shaking from fear," Gimli continued without pause.

 "Estevar? One of Theodan's most trusted men?" Legolas prodded, smirking.

 "Yes, that may be the one," Gimli replied, chagrined, but still continued his story. "Anyway, I was saving his life when suddenly the lad cried out in alarm."

 "That 'lad' has been a soldier for twenty years, and has five children," Legolas interjected, but Gimli ignored him and his useless facts.

 The story continued with the dwarf now adding hand motions and growls, "I turned and there stood the largest Uruk I had ever seen. Nine feet tall with arms the size of tree trunks! He snarled at me and I snarled back, frightening off most of my other opponents of course. So I stepped up …"

 "Gimli, are you so blinded by your heroics you forget even the smallest of details? I was at Helm's Deep if you recall, and I cannot place a time when you fought anywhere near Estevar. And I certainly do not believe there were any Uruks that stood above the treetops." Legolas said confidently, knowing his memory of the battle was far superior to Gimli's. And unmarred by heroic tellings of the deed, unlike the dwarf.

 "You were busy at the time. Trapped in a corner I believe."

 Legolas reared his horse Jarinel to a stop so he could turn and give Gimli his full attention, "Trapped in a corner?"

 "I seem to recall something to that event happening," Gimli continued, now goading his friend for no such event had happened.

 "If you do not watch your tongue my friend you will be _walking_ the rest of the way to Minas Tirith," Legolas warned him with an exasperated tone. Jarinel began to trot once more, catching up with the group.

 "Do your worst. It's only a few more hours on horseback, I'm sure I could find my way," Gimli said smugly.

 "Then I shall ride deeper into the woods and leave you in a grove with no path or weapons and see how you fare," Legolas replied, not backing down.

 "You go too far elf," Gimli said, but was quiet for the time being.

 Legolas smiled in victory. They had been riding for a little over two weeks now so their bickering was nothing new to the company. In fact many of the men found it a source of great entertainment; this did not mean though that they were not eager to arrive in Minas Tirith. Knowing that home was so close at hand had put the entire company in high spirits. The guards wished to see their wives and children, Gimli wished to have a decent glass of ale and pipeweed and Aragorn wished to look over his country and wife. After nearly two months away, they all craved the return of their normal lives.

 The group continued their peaceful gait through the forest, rarely breaking the silence with speech. Legolas was in particularly good spirits; he enjoyed his bickering with Gimli, and the thoughts of returning home brought great joy. Closer to home at least, for Minas Tirith was much better known to him than the foreign land of Brelan had been.

Brelan. He was as yet unsure whether to smile or cringe when he thought of the name. So much good had been done there, but so much had been lost as well. It was hard to weigh one against the other, but at least Legolas could say he left with new and stronger friendships than when he arrived. In some ways he supposed it did not matter how they came to be.

For now though he was thinking only of getting to Minas Tirith and finally being able to remove Gimli from his position at his back. His constant tales were truly becoming irritating, especially since he was so close that he could not be ignored. But for now Gimli was silent and the elf was so content that he began to sing and smiled when the trees and animals perked up with his song, as they always did.

 At the front of the group Aragorn was lost in thought about the return home, but was unconsciously singing along with Legolas under his breath, for the elf could be heard clearly throughout the forest. For his part Aragorn wanted only one thing, to see his wife and his city and put the darkness of Brelan behind him.

 Though things had worked out in the end, many foul deeds had taken place in Brelan, not least of all the betrayal of his captain, the loss of Malinya's Stone, and the near death of Legolas at the hands of Risorine.

 _Or had he actually died?_ Aragorn pondered, not knowing what powers the Stone of Malinya had possessed for certain. He quickly banished these thoughts though, not wishing to dwell on such unhappy times. _But I will need a new captain of my guards. Perhaps Harsol is trained enough for the position. He seems eager and I know he is loyal, for his father has been an advisor to Gondor for many years._

Again Aragorn decided not to dwell on such things for the time being. He wanted only to think of returning home in peace, so to soothe his mind he pushed away his worries and concentrated on Legolas's soft song behind him. A look of confusion soon took over his features for it was then he realized that Legolas had ceased to sing even though the song was far from over. Aragorn pulled his horse from the line and looked behind him. Legolas and Gimli still rode at a fast trot at the end of the line, but Legolas's face was molded with concern and the mirth his song had provided had vanished.

 Gimli also noticed the sudden halt of the song and looked at his friend, "Forget the words?"

 Legolas did not chuckle or sling back any kind of insult. Instead he lifted a finger to silence the dwarf as he listened to the sounds of the forest. Jarinel's gait also slowed and eventually stopped completely. It seemed whatever the elf had sensed was affecting the horse as well.

 "What's wrong? Trouble?" Gimli asked, reaching for his axe and waiting for the elf's always reliable report. The last time Legolas had silenced him like this was before they had been attacked by rebels in the forest of Brelan.

 Legolas shook his head, "No, we are not in danger. Something is wrong with the forest."

 Gimli gruffed in confusion, the forest seemed fine to him, then looked up to see Aragorn trotting back to them atop Hasufel. He seemed concerned as well and watched with interest as Legolas dismounted Jarinel and walked slowly towards a nearby tree.

 "Legolas?" Aragorn said softly, wanting answers but knowing the elf was deep in thought and quickly becoming worried.

 "Something is wrong with the forest," Legolas repeated, now focussed completely on the tree in front of him. He placed a hand on the rough bark and cringed. The tree was in pain. He went to another and felt the same thing. Looking at the forest floor he noticed for the first time that the ground was covered in far too many leaves for the summer season. He picked one from the ground, it was wilted and dry despite the dampness of the ground and air.

 Aragorn and Gimli watched in fascination but were not encouraged when their friend turned to them and reported, "Something has happened while we were away. The forest is ill." He knelt on the ground and placed a hand on the bare earth and winced once more. "It is almost as though all of nature is in pain."

 Aragorn himself sensed nothing, which was no surprise for he was not connected to the earth as Legolas was, but trusted his judgment and now that he looked he could see the signs as well. The branches of the trees were low and brittle, the leaves on the ground were dead and numerous, and no animals sang or chirped.

 "Let us make haste to Minas Tirith," he suggested, now feeling strongly that something was wrong. "Perhaps there we will find answers."

 Legolas nodded and slowly rose to his feet. A moment later he broke from his sympathetic trance and leapt back onto Jarinel's back. The two horses rode to the front of the line and Aragorn called out to his men to speed up. They did so without question though they knew not the reason why.

 Aragorn and Legolas galloped side by side. They were completely focussed on their path, for the forest was thick and manoeuvring through the trees was difficult. Gimli had no such task before him, and though he was not sure he believed that 'nature' could feel pain, he did chance to look up through a small break in the canopy of branches and see something odd.

_What has happened to the sky? _He wondered. They passed the sight quickly and Gimli could not be sure of what he had seen so made no comment to his companions. Besides, if he was right they would find out soon anyway.

 They rode hard and in an hour reached the edges of the forest. The trees did not thin out slowly but stopped suddenly at a point just ahead of them, where the terrain stretched out to flat plains. The clearing they would emerge into was well known for it was placed high above the fields and one could see a spectacular view of the country for many miles from there.

 The small company rode for the clearing and as they passed the final trees Gimli lifted a hand to his eyes, expecting to be blinded by the sudden light of the sun. Such was not the case. The group halted as they left the forest and looked in shock upon the fields, valleys, and trees. All wilted, yellow or dead. Open fields that were once alive with green grass and flowers were barren, or littered with dry, wilting, grass and plants. Trees hung low with yellowed needles or leaves in large piles beneath them. There was no sign of any life that was flourishing; most plants seemed to be hanging onto life by a thinning thread.

 Above them the sun could be seen but its rays seemed weak as if shrouded, though there was not a cloud in sight to block them. Even the sky was different – its color was not a healthy blue but a light gray, pasty and sick.

 Aragorn did not know what could have caused such a thing to happen. He knew only one thing for certain – Gondor was dying.

TBC

Ahh, it's good to be back. Nothing like a good cliffhanger to start off a new story. I really am quite excited about this fic, I have sooo many ideas. Not just for H/C but for twists and cliffhangers, it should be quite a ride. Hope you'll all be there. Catch ya around, Robinyj


	2. Returning to a Home Changed

Small note, I've never written Arwen before so I don't really have a great feel for her, but she doesn't have a real major part in the story anyway. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy, it's good to see so many of my old reviewers back. The action starts in the next chapter, but this establishes the plot pretty clearly. Hope you're all enjoying,

Overcoming Darkness

By Robinyj

"It is everywhere."

 The soft exclamation came from Legolas. The elf sat staring over the land, disbelieving that the pain he had felt in the forest could have spread so far and so quickly. He could see much farther along the horizon than the men around him and could easily tell that the desolation grew worse as one came closer to the walls of Minas Tirith.

 "What could have caused this?" One of Aragorn's guards, Meretis, asked in awe.

 "Drought?" Another answered hesitantly, though he knew lack of rain would not account for the color of the sky, the weakness of the sun, or the disappearance and frailty of so many animals.

 "It has rained three times since we left Brelan," Meretis replied, disproving the theory.

 Legolas did not so easily disregard the thought, "It rained where we rode, that does not mean that the rain reached these lands. This illness was not in the forests we passed through days ago. It is spreading, and from what I can see it began in Minas Tirith."

 "A disease of some sort," the other guard suggested. "That affects the growth of plants."

 Gimli peered at him sceptically, "A disease that fades the sun?"

 The guard had no reply.

 Gimli looked up at the sun, or rather what was left of it, with mounting fear. It was mid-day and the light shed by its rays was only enough to lay shadows on the land around them. Its brightness was so dimmed he could stare within its center without flinching. Thinking of the power, the unnatural sorcery it would take to accomplish such a feat as to fade the very thing that brought the world light, made him shiver with dread.

 "Can it be stopped?" Aragorn asked suddenly, hopefully, though he knew Legolas had few answers. The elf may have been able to feel nature's pain, but he could not decipher the cause.

 "To answer that we must first find out how it began," Legolas replied, unwilling to commit to a true answer just yet.

 "Then let us move on," The king suggested, turning away from the dreary sight of his dying land.

 The group slowly began to move again. One by one they descended the rather steep cliff face and passed through the dying valleys, still in amazement of the deathly colour of all the plants and sky. The horses soon became restless and hard to control, as they felt disturbed walking through a land so filled with growing desolation.

 Soon the company reached Erildor, the tallest tree on this side of Gondor – even its needles were yellow and frail. Many littered the valley floor.

 "This cannot be natural," Gimli said, now beginning to believe that maybe nature could feel sickness. He looked to Legolas for a reply, or perhaps for answers, but the elf said nothing, he simply stared ahead forlornly as they neared the walls of Minas Tirith.

 They passed through farms with gardens filled with dying vegetables. Several chickens and other small animals roamed free, looking for food, but there were no signs of human life anywhere.

 "Where are all the farmers?" Meretis asked as they passed through the second deserted ranch.

 "In a time of crisis such as this they would travel to the city to find answers or refuge. Sadly I have been away and unable to offer them either," Aragorn replied, clearly bitter that he had been away from his country in such a time of need.

 "You could not have known," Legolas said simply. Aragorn nodded but his guilt was not eased.

 Next they came to the body of a cow in the empty fields. It had died some days ago and the lack of crows to pick at its body only emphasized how sterile the land was becoming. None wished to look at the poor animal, only Legolas gave it a second sympathetic glance. Then his look changed to curiosity as he noticed something odd. With a stroke of his hand he slowed Jarinel to a stop and dismounted, leaving Gimli alone on the horse, a position he greatly disliked.

 "Legolas, get back here and steer this beast!" the dwarf demanded, but the elf prince ignored him and moved steadily closer to the carrion before them. Aragorn heard the call from the front of the line and turned to see what Legolas could find so interesting in the dead animal and trotted closer.

 As he approached it became clear what the elf had noticed and Aragorn wondered how he had not seen it before.

 "How strange," Aragorn commented from his seat atop Hasufel as he watched Legolas more closely examine the beast. He did not touch the blood or wounds but closed the eyes of the cow respectfully.

 "What is so damn interesting over there?" Gimli shouted, unable to see from his perch or get himself down without risk of injury.

 Aragorn turned to him and shouted, "This animal did not die of natural causes, it was killed."

 "Starving wolves, it's no surprise. Let's move on," Gimli continued becoming uncomfortable as Jarinel began to shift and paw at the ground in agitation.

 "It was killed by a dagger," Legolas announced. "Humans did this."

 "Why would the farmers kill their cattle and not eat the meat?" Meretis asked, confused.

 "It was not killed by farmers; they do not slaughter their food in such a way. This was deliberate, almost ritualistic. Strange," Legolas replied while looking over the wounds. "Its heart is missing. I would not be surprised if we find more such things as we near Minas Tirith."

 Aragorn nodded, seemingly lost in thought. Legolas left the desecrated animal behind him and mounted Jarinel once more. The horse whinnied in delight, not only to have his rider back but to be moving on from the dead place as well. It took him some time to realize with dismay that the smell of death and illness was now all throughout the land and virtually inescapable.

 "Enough questions, I wish to have answers," Aragorn announced, tired of mysteries. "Ride hard! To the city!"

 None had any objections to this and soon the group was galloping across the plains, the only signs of life for miles. They passed groves of dying trees, fields of withering crops and three more slaughtered cows. All wished to find answers about what was happening to the country, but also knew they would find more answers in the city walls than they would investigating on their own, so ignored the sights and continued on their way.

They kicked up large clouds of dirt in the dry fields, making them easily visible from the gates of Minas Tirith. For this reason it was no surprise that a welcome party was awaiting them when they arrived several hours later, exhausted from their hard ride.

 The sight was not what Aragorn wanted, but what he had expected. The bells had been rung long ago signalling his return home and his subjects lined the street to welcome him. This was not unusual, but what weighed upon his heart was the joy on so many faces to see him. It was a look of relief and expectation. The citizens of Gondor had complete faith in their king and truly believed he would be able to save them from the horrible plague that seemed to strike their land. They did not know the cause, they did not know the cure, but they did know their ruler was a great man, capable of great things, and for this reason they cheered as he appeared at last on their streets, looking weary but as noble and proud as ever.

The citizens had watched with growing fear for weeks as the world around them died, and yet they could do nothing. But their king was a great warrior, and had many esteemed companions; the people knew that if he could not help them, then he at least could call upon someone who could. Action would at last be taken to save them from drought and starvation.

 As the company entered the great gates, shouts were heard from buildings and sidewalks, "The King has returned! He will save us all! … Hope has arrived! Lord Elessar will banish this evil! … The healing hands will stop this darkness!"

 Aragorn waved to the masses and hoped their faith was not unfounded. He was sure to appear calm and confident for his people as he rode further up the street to where the color party anxiously awaited with banners, trumpets and guards. The guards that had travelled with him to Brelan looked solemn and stared ahead, focussed on their duty of protecting their king and appearing regal beside him. Legolas and Gimli staggered near the end, more intent to look upon the faces of the crowd and the changes therein.

 Though most were smiling, filled with joy and faith in their king, some of the older citizens stood frowning, brooding, worried that the King alone would not be enough to help them. They looked scared, as were most of the citizens, but unlike the younger ones they were not so quick to place their burden of fear solely upon the King's shoulders to take away.

 Aragorn reached the color party and dismounted, Hasufel immediately being taken away by a ready stable boy. Harsol stood at the front of the welcoming party and bowed reverently as Aragorn approached.

 "Lord Elessar, your return is a great relief for all of Gondor. Much has happened since you left," Harsol's grave words matched his composition, his eyes shifted with uncertainty and his shoulders were tight with tension. In the King's absence a large portion of the responsibility of the city had been on his shoulders and he did not appear to have taken the strain well. Before the guard continued he took a quick account of those who stood before him and looked confused. "Where is Risorine?"

 The three companions flinched at the name. Jarinel reared on his back legs and snorted.

 The grave look Aragorn inflicted on Harsol made it clear that that was not something he wished to speak of.

 "That is a long story, you shall hear it later. I am more eager to know what has happened here while I have been gone," Aragorn said, calming himself quickly. "I wish to return home at once and then I will hear all you know of what is happening to my land."

 Harsol bowed once more, "Of course my lord. Though sadly, I feel I will have few of the answers you seek."

 Aragorn had expected as much but indicated he should lead the way in any case. The color party snapped to attention at Harsol's command and trumpets blared as Aragorn was escorted back to his home. He had to fight the urge to sigh with exasperation.

 _Why is my every gesture a cause for celebration?_ He wondered, as he wished only to return to see his home and wife. It had been long months since he had last seen Arwen and he craved for her touch and beauty. He knew she would be waiting for him, arms open and eyes welcoming. The thought of her took away all the fatigue and worry he felt, at least for the time being. Looking behind him Aragorn tried to spot Legolas and Gimli behind his rearguard, but they were already gone, vanished into the crowd and allowed to skip the nuisance of formalities that came with being in the public eye. Most likely they would head for the palace on foot and beat him there by many minutes. He tried not to feel jealous and continued to wave to the cheering crowd, so filled with hope and faith in him. He did not wish to let them down.

 Legolas and Gimli were indeed making their way to the palace on foot, not wishing to be stared at by the great crowd as they usually were when they visited Minas Tirith. The Gondorians did not stare out of fear or hatred, only simple curiosity which the friends could forgive, but it did not make it any less of a pleasant experience. What they were enjoying though was the rare chance to walk through the streets of Minas Tirith alone, for practically all the inhabitants had rushed to the gates to welcome home King Elessar.

 "Those people perhaps expect too much of Aragorn. He is only one man after all, and yet clearly they expect for him to solve all their problems with only his presence," Gimli said, feeling sorry for Aragorn and the weight he carried on his shoulders.

 "They love and have faith in their king, as one's people should. Already in their time he has restored the lost line of Kings, rebuilt Minas Tirith more spectacular than before, and was vital in the destruction of the ring of power and the greatest evil this land has ever known. Perhaps they are within their rights to expect such feats from him again," Legolas said thoughtfully as he continued to walk down the empty streets with his companion, his worried gaze never straying far from the gray sky or pale sun. It amazed and frightened him that the world could have changed so much in their absence, especially in such an horrific way.

 "I still believe they set him on a pedestal too high, but I will admit the people seem to be faring well under the circumstances. Their entire country dying around them and they are within their wits enough not to panic or beg for assistance. They truly are holding their own in this crisis, from what I have seen at least," Gimli replied.

 "Almost all of the city's people were here during the Great War. It is no surprise they can handle hardship with ease," Legolas pointed out, and Gimli had to agree. Before they could discuss the matter further the elf's gaze was suddenly turned away, into a dark alley ahead of them. His eyes slitted as he attempted to make out something in the distance.

 "What is that?" he asked to himself, for Gimli could not hope to see the object yet.

 "What? Where are you going?" Gimli asked, trying to catch up with the elf as he jogged to the end of the alley. Legolas slowed and stared intently at the wall in front of him, his heart pounding in his chest as the image on it took shape and his mind pieced together what had happened to the surrounding natural world. It was a plain brick wall, exactly like many others in Minas Tirith, only this one had an addition.

 "Sweet Eru," Legolas whispered in shock, his eyes widening.

 Gimli's features tightened when he saw what his friend was looking at, "I hope that is not blood." He commented, not wishing to get any closer than he now was.

 "It is," Legolas replied distractedly, still staring intently on the bright red symbol that had been drawn on the wall. It was a plain circle with six lightening bolts shooting into its sides. The elf brought up a hand and traced the outline of the symbol, his face showing clear distress.

 "This cannot be true."

 "What is it elf? Do you know what this means?" Gimli asked, not finding the sign that interesting unless one considered the substance used to make it.

 "Yes, I believe I do and I hope that it is a horrible mistake on my part but with the condition we find Gondor in, I fear I am right. Great evil has come here," Legolas said sadly. Gimli almost thought he detected a hint of fear in the elf's voice but quickly dismissed it. His friend had gone through orcs, uruk-hai, nazgul and a great war, surely whatever this new danger was did not frighten him.

 "This country is in great peril, as is all of Middle-Earth. The Mornarad are back," Legolas turned to his friend, shaking his head as if trying to deny the truth. "I am sorry my friend, I have speak to Aragorn immediately. I will meet you at the palace."

 And with no further words of explanation Legolas took off, running through the streets of Minas Tirith as though he were being pursued by a horde of Uruk-Hai. Gimli stood in shock for a moment, then threw his arms in the air, wondering why he was surprised.

 "Damn that elf and his secrets. Running off without a clear word of explanation. If I can catch him I'll show him how to properly deliver a message – with the blade of your axe." Gimli grumbled then began to run after the elf, though he knew he had no hope of catching him.

 After spending nearly an hour shaking hands and accepting gifts and tokens from his people, Aragorn finally reached his home. The gates closed behind him, cutting off the crowd of people, and he trotted up the walk with only his guards as company.

Finally he was home. He wished for a warm meal, for the arms of his wife, and most of all for answers to his many questions. All these things would have to wait though, for no sooner had they passed the gates of his home, than Aragorn's eye was drawn to a strange sight in his courtyard. He dismounted Hasufel, handing his reins to the closest guard, and walked into the garden in front of his home. The garden held a dying ring of flowers, a white marble bench, and a spectacular tree in the center which was now wilted as well, but still impressive. None of these objects received a second glance from the distracted king. Aragorn continued to walk until he reached the cause of his curiosity; a strange symbol that had apparently been burnt into the grass in front of the tree.

 The design was simple enough, an immense circle with three lightening bolts penetrating its sides, and to Aragorn seemed vaguely familiar. He stood staring at it for several minutes, wondering what could have caused such a thing, before he turned as he heard footsteps behind him. It was Harsol, frowning as he also looked upon the symbol.

 "This is another part of the mystery my lord. The land dies with no cause but people are also dying here in Minas Tirith's walls," Harsol said sadly, never taking his eyes from the imprinted design.

 "Dying? Surely the food cannot already be so low," Aragorn replied, amazed their provisions could already be running out.

 Harsol shook his head, "Nay, the food supplies are well for the time. The people may remain fed for several more weeks at least. The people that have died have all been murdered, my Lord. Stabbed to death and …"

 The guard hesitated in his speech, very much affected by the horrors he had seen in his king's absence.

 "And?" Aragorn urged him.

 Harsol looked at him with sad and fearful eyes, "Their hearts were cut out. There have been nine murders already, and at the site of every crime we find this damn symbol, the meaning of which continues to elude us."

 "There was a murder on the steps of my own house?" Aragorn asked, furious and disbelieving that someone would dare have the audacity to do such a thing in his own kingdom.

 "Aye, my lord. The Lady Arwen was away for the night so the majority of the palace guards were sent with her. There were a limited number of sentries here, for no one was present to be in danger. A single guard, Maret, was found dead in the garden the next morning. He was the third death."

 "And three lightning bolts in the symbol," Aragorn surmised. Harsol nodded.

 "The symbol changes with each murder to match the number. There has been one a night for the past nine nights. Clearly the people are pleased of your return, they have hopes you will know what evil is plaguing our city and land," Harsol said, and it was clear he held out that hope as well.

 "I am unsure if … Arwen," Aragorn's eyes took on a strange unfocussed glaze as he stared at the top of the steps where his wife stood waiting, smiling for his return.

 "My husband, it has been many days," Arwen said as she moved gracefully down the steps, her dark hair flowing in the meagre wind.

 "Too many days my love," Aragorn replied, taking her in his arms for a tight embrace. He breathed in her scent and took comfort in the love returned in her embrace. Then his eyes shifted to the ground once more and he was reminded of the plight of his country. "Much has happened in my absence as well."

 Arwen nodded, smiling sadly, and gestured to the ground, "Do you recognize this?"

 Aragorn shook his head, frustrated, "It seems to me familiar but I cannot place the meaning."

 "It is the same with me. I know I have seen this before but what it means eludes me," Arwen admitted.

 Aragorn looked at her in surprise, "All your years and you cannot recall such a simple thing?" he asked without mocking or cruelty, only curiosity.

 Arwen looked at him lovingly, as if explaining to a child, "One may learn much after centuries of life my love, and one may forget even more."

 The king nodded in understanding and traced the lines of her face, "You look tired."

 "I am understandably so. The plague on the land causes me to be without rest," Arwen explained.

 "Come, let us go inside," Aragorn beckoned, indicating Harsol as well, "and I will hear all we yet know about this peril."

 As they turned to enter the great hall, the sound of running guards assaulted their ears. Aragorn turned to see there was some sort of commotion at the palace gates and more soldiers were rushing forward to help control it.

 "Most likely citizens have come to beseech your help, my lord," Harsol answered, having expected such a thing.

 Aragorn knew he was most likely right but strode towards the gate nonetheless, which now had nearly a dozen guards posted there. He saw no citizens at all in the frenzy, but he did briefly spot a flash of golden hair and could clearly hear a voice above the clatter.

 "I do not have time for your questions, the hour draws late. If you do not allow me to pass I … Aragorn!" Legolas spotted his friend at the foot of the stairs and then easily tore through the line of guards, shaking off forbidding hands and weaving through the smallest openings in their defence. Soon he had passed them all and ran urgently towards Aragorn. The guards behind him ran to catch up, shouting for him to stop, but Aragorn held up a hand to them.

 "It is well, he is my friend. Go back to your posts," Aragorn ordered the guards, who returned to their duty, shamed to have all been bested by a single elf. Legolas took no notice of their feelings though, he had an important message to convey.

 "Aragorn, I must speak with you," Legolas said, finally reaching his companion.

 "Clearly, and something tells me it is quite urgent, and most likely connected with what we were discussing. Come inside, we will speak of this together," Aragorn motioned for his friend to follow him up the stairs, which the elf did gladly. As they passed the garden he immediately spotted the symbol burnt into the grass.

 "It is here as well," Legolas whispered, inspecting the new sign.

 He now had the attention of Aragorn, Arwen and Harsol.

 "You know what it means?" Harsol questioned, seeing no meaning in the symbol.

 Legolas stood and faced them, "It is the symbol of the Mornarad."

 "Black days," Aragorn muttered, translating the name from Elvish and searching for some memory of it.

 "They bring with them only death and destruction but have the power to destroy all of Middle-Earth, and we have little time to stop them."

 Legolas allowed this information to be fully absorbed by his companions, then began to say more when Aragorn halted him.

 "Legolas please, hold your speech for a moment. We should go inside and discuss all we know, then we can better form a plan of action."

 "Very well, but we must hurry," Legolas agreed and began to walk with them up the steps. "Gimli should be along shortly as well. It would be best to tell your guards to allow him to pass. He makes more of a fuss than even me."

 Aragorn nodded and moved back down the steps to speak with them. Arwen was at his side, holding his arm and looking grave.

 "The Mornarad," she whispered, then looked at him with mournful eyes. "I believe I now know why I could not remember the meaning of the symbol – they are frightening to think of and I did not wish to recall such things."

 "Arwen, save your worries and all that you know for later. We will learn of this evil and then defeat it, I promise," Aragorn said, his conviction so strong he could not be denied.

 The queen began to rub her arms as if cold in the weak mid-day sun, "I have felt this evil for many days and it is growing stronger. Legolas is right, we have little time."

 "Then we will hurry," Aragorn promised and kissed her lightly to seal his words. She smiled up at him and then they both turned as sounds of a struggle came from the gate walls.

 "What do you mean I cannot enter? Do you enjoy your arms as they are or would you like them a bit shorter? Then I suggest you let me by."

 Gimli had arrived. Now they may begin to find answers, and likely more questions as well.

TBC

What's happening to Gondor? I hope you know because I haven't got a clue. J/k, I got a nice plot running through my little head. I think you'll all enjoy the chapters to come as well. It's going to get pretty exciting if I do say so myself.

Anyway, to my fab reviewers. You know who you are, but just in case you don't here's a little special thanks:

Snow-Glory – "Is this going to be another Legolas story?" What kind of question is that? Are there even any other characters in LotR? Just kidding, but yes, this fic is going to be very much Legolas centered with a great deal of action and of course angsty h/c bits that we all love.

Happy Reviewer – I'm pretty excited about being back as well, I haven't written LotR in such a long time. I've been on a Joss Whedon kick lately, I don't know why. Anyway, hope you got through Stone of Malinya again because it probably helps to read that before this one, get a reminder of the character's state of mind. I don't know, I'm just rambling.

Sabrina – Thanks for the review. I'm glad you like the detail, I enjoy writing it but always wonder if anyone reads it cause if I'm reading an exciting story I have a tendency to skip right to the dialogue. I might be the only one that does that though. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.

LOTRfaith – Yep, Gondor's not feeling too well and neither are its citizens. I think this fic will be about three quarters as long as Stone of Malinya. SoM was quite an undertaking for me and this one won't be quite so long. Chapters will probably we up pretty quickly though.

Mogcat – Still intrigued? Did I update soon enough?

Kitsune Kida – Thanks for reviewing. Glad you like it so far.

Ancalimawen – Your review made me laugh. I don't know if it was intended to sound funny but it was quirky and I liked it. And yes, I am back. Did you read Stone of Malinya?

Mako13 – I don't think this fic can lay claim to masterpiece status just yet. Why not give me a few more chapters and I'll see what I can do?

Star-Stallion – you want cliffhangers you came to the riiiight place. I'm addicted to writing them. And there should be plenty.

Aronoiiel – Already addicted? You're the second person that said that. I'm going to have to start like Robinyj anonymous or something. Thank you for the nice comments, they make me smile and push me to write even faster, but also put more effort into each chapter to make it the best it can be.

Templa Otmena – You're here too!!! Yeah!! You're everywhere, it's great! I hope you don't mind, but this means I won't be finishing my new Buffy fic for awhile. Leggy whilst content and leggy whilst concerned is quite enjoyable, isn't it? That connection does come into play later, but I'm not giving any clues as to how. Cause I'm evil. Enjoy the fic.

Reader – Oh, thank you so much. I enjoy being back. I'd love if you would log in next time you review so I can check out your profile if you have one.

Elanora1 – I didn't really emphasize the connection a lot in the first story, mainly because it's not that strong. I just like the thought of our heroes being such good friends that they're connected to each other (makes for good h/c later on as well). This story isn't going to be as heavy with moral dilemmas because in all honesty writing that in Malinya really drained me. I hope you enjoy anyway though – thanks for reviewing.

More soon. I look forward to hearing from you and would love to hear some of your theories on what's happening. Robinyj


	3. The Dark Shadow of Kirithnin

The plot's thickening like butter! Hope you're all enjoying, I'm having a great time writing it. Did I disclaim already? Well, I own none of these characters, just in case I didn't.

Overcoming Darkness

By Robinyj

Inside the great stone walls of the home of the King of Gondor, five figures sat together in a secluded room. The doors were shut and the guards were being ushered away to ensure the privacy of their speech, for all knew that words of dread and evil would be spoken between them and did not wish word to leak out to the citizens of Minas Tirith in fear of causing panic. The room had no windows and was lit only by several candles placed on the center table, and the blaze of the fire behind them. Also, if one looked close enough they could see a faint glow in the skin of one of the room's occupants.

Aragorn was standing by the doorway, dismissing the final guard, Meretis, from the hallway.

"I am certain we will be fine, Meretis. Now be on your way and ensure we are not disturbed." The man was stubborn with loyalty to protect his king but finally consented reluctantly and left the halls. Aragorn turned and closed the doors behind him with a sigh. Seeing that everyone that was needed was in attendance he strode to the table and sat next to Arwen, taking her hand absently.

"Now that we are all here, and Legolas and Gimli have sufficiently embarrassed and threatened my guards for the evening, we should begin to discuss this evil. The Mornarad, as Legolas tells us," Aragorn started, beginning the conversation that would hopefully reveal some answers to the strange occurrences in his land.

"Time to bear your secrets, elf," Gimli taunted, but was also extremely curious as to what his friend had to say about the cause of the death of the land. "What do you know about this darkness?"

"I know a good deal, but what I know was learned many centuries ago and time may have marred the true facts. I would like if Harsol or Arwen may first explain to us all that has happened here since we have been away. Then mayhap I will recall some greater details of the Mornarad," Legolas requested, looking to Arwen and Harsol to see which would answer him.

Harsol leaned forward. He felt somewhat awkward in this group, for clearly the other four people in the room had known each other for many years and were all very close. It was strange to be the outsider, especially in such high company as his king, queen, and the honoured elf and dwarf guests. Still, he had been asked to speak and would not shy away from such things.

"The first signs of trouble with the land began nearly three weeks ago," Harsol began and then told the tale in length. "That is when the cattle began dying. Clearly they were being killed by men of some sort. Every time it was the same; the heart was cut from the beast and the strange symbol would be marred into the flesh or burnt into the nearby ground. None could find any reason for the crimes and we attempted to dismiss them, but they did not stop, and then the sky began to change." He paused for a moment, and a new voice took up the tale.

"I felt the first whispers of this darkness eighteen days ago. I have counted each day since because it grows louder and more powerful with each passing sunset, and every life that is taken seems to strengthen it," Arwen announced, her eyes grave but voice firm with what she knew to be truth. "If something is not done those whispers will quickly become a scream that all will hear."

There was silence for a moment as Aragorn looked deep into the eyes of his wife, ensuring her without words that thing would be set right. Legolas and Gimli merely took this in, having faith in the Lady Undomiel's feelings. Legolas not only had faith in what Arwen felt, he agreed full heartedly, for he too felt the tendrils of darkness that had crept into every living thing in the land.

After a moment Harsol continued, having not finished his account.

"There were thirteen cattle reported killed in all. The morning after the final death was when the land truly began to die. The plants wilted, the sky paled and the sun grew weaker, as though shrouded from us. None knew the cause and many farmers came to the city for answers. The next evening came and no cattle were slaughtered. It was now the citizens of Minas Tirith that were being targeted for death. Every murder was the same – the hearts cut out and the symbol drawn in blood or fire. Nine have been lost to us so far, and we can find no connection between any. They came from different areas, different homes, were of different ages and genders. And every time we find another victim, that damn symbol is there, mocking us with each added lightning bolt. Taunting us with their victory and the fact that these monsters continue to elude us!" Harsol stood suddenly, pushed his chair back and began to pace the room. He had become uncharacteristically impassioned during his speech, recalling each body he had found and the frustration he had felt knowing that murderers ran free on his streets.

Aragorn stood and took the man's shoulder. Harsol avoided his gaze, embarrassed to have lost control in such a way before his king.

"Forgive me Lord Elessar, I did not …"

Aragorn smiled and shook his head, understanding, "There is nothing to forgive. Sit, but control yourself. We still have much to discuss."

Harsol did as instructed and sat down, the last of his anger dissipating with a sigh. All in the room sorted through this new information, shuffling it in their minds and trying to make some connection. It was Legolas that finally spoke, directing his words to Harsol.

"The last animal to be killed, it was a calf was it not? Most likely the youngest in the surrounding area," Legolas asked, meeting Harsol's gaze with a look of such intensity that the man had to turn and stare into the fire. He nodded in response.

"Yes, it was a calf, only a few days old. How did you know this?" Harsol questioned, becoming suspicious only because he knew so little of the king's 'honoured guests.'

"A fragment of memory only, which I seem to recall about the Mornarad," Legolas replied, turning his eyes back toward the floor as he once more returned to his thoughts.

"Perhaps if you enlighten the rest of us with your broken memories we can piece together what you are obviously unable to," Gimli said impatiently when the elf remained silent for several minutes.

"I only try to organize my thoughts, mellon-nin," Legolas replied absently. It at first appeared he would not return the dwarf's jest but then added, "Besides, memory cannot be split and sealed together like your simple rock and stone. These matters are clearly out of your depth to comprehend."

"I comprehend things that make sense, Elf. Your riddles about 'nature being ill' and 'evil approaching' are enough to frustrate even the most patient of people, of which I am not known to be part of. Now cease these dramatic gestures that you elves so adore and speak plainly to us. What is happening here?" Gimli demanded, beginning to lose patience with the prince.

During the exchange Harsol had briefly braced himself for the outbreak of a fierce argument between the two companions, and was surprised when the matter was so quickly dropped. _Are these two friends or enemies?_ He wondered, but even the elf and dwarf themselves were not always sure of the answer to this question.

Legolas smiled briefly at his friend's behaviour and then stood to better meet the eyes of all who sat around him.

"I remember learning of the Mornarad in the libraries of my home many centuries ago. I did not speak at first because I wondered if perhaps they were only fiction, a tale told to the young ones to scare them – "if you do not respect your elders the Mornarad will come for you" – but with the telling of what has happened here, I know my recollections to be true. The Mornarad are men, regular men you see each day. They may work in the stables, or here in this very palace. They have no distinguishing markings or characteristics. In all manners they are invisible to us. What makes the Mornarad dangerous is their quest, which they seem to be fulfilling even now, and that whom they follow."

Legolas paused briefly to stare into the fire behind him and partly to anger Gimli with another 'dramatic gesture' on his part. He did not expect the soft whisper behind him from the Lady Arwen, practically laced with disgust.

"Kirithnin."

Aragorn's eyes widened with this name and his memory also suddenly returned to him of where he had seen the strange symbol of the Mornarad before.

"The destroyer of life," he said rigidly, quoting text from memory. "I recall now, I heard Lord Elrond speak of him when I was a child. He was in secret council with Glorfindel, but I was young and listened anyway. They were going through an ancient text that I later chanced to look at. They said Kirithnin could destroy Middle-Earth in a way that many may still live but wish they were dead." The king's eyes sought Legolas, who nodded in confirmation of what was said.

"He is an ancient evil, and I speak of him only as a living being because there is no true way to describe what Kirithnin means. He is evil and perhaps sentient, but has no body or form that we may fight. He attacks in the form that you now see in this land. He is a virus and a plague, destroying all the natural beauty of the world. Even now he is spreading through Minas Tirith in the trees and the soil and I do not doubt that he will shortly spread his reach further, and thus poison all living things in Middle-Earth," Legolas's words were heavy with dread but once they were said he lowered his eyes, once more contemplating their plight. It did not go unnoticed when he abruptly leaned against the table and sighed heavily, his features constricted with fatigue as he absently rubbed a hand over his face.

"Legolas? Are you well?" Aragorn asked, standing to make a closer inspection of his friend. It was strange for him to appear so tired, especially if he had not recently taken part in some battle.

The elf looked up and straightened, surprised by the question, and quickly schooled his features to normal and waved off his friend's concern, "I worry only. This evil burdens me with its severity. It would be best if we discussed our options for combating it."

Aragorn nodded, looked over his friend once more, and returned to the table. Then a knowing look swiftly passed between the prince of Mirkwood and queen of Minas Tirith, and much was said even without words, but it went unseen by their companions.

"Before we discuss stopping it, what's causing it exactly?" Gimli interjected. "This group of men wishes to plunge Middle-Earth into darkness. Well, for what purpose, and how are they doing it?"

"Their purpose is power only," Arwen replied, her memory of the Mornarad also restored by Legolas's presentation of all he knew. "When the death and darkness of Kirithnin is completely spread across this land, there will be a select few that are able to control it and allow life to exist where everywhere else there is only death. This select few will be those men that summon this evil and help it spread. They will have rule over all living things for they alone will choose what lives."

"As for how they are doing this, I am uncertain," Legolas admitted. "Clearly these murders are their doing and connected to what is happening to the land, but I have no knowledge on how to stop them or how their power is drawn and spread. For this reason I ask that I may be given access to your libraries Aragorn. I know they are extensive and there may be valuable information to be found inside."

Aragorn gave his consent without question.

"Do we know where Gandalf is?" The king then asked, knowing the wizard would be a great asset to them in their time of need.

"The last we heard he was in Lothlorien and traveling north," Harsol said, desperate to contribute in some way.

"But that was nearly a month ago," Arwen added. "I have already sent riders in search of him, to all the places I can think he may be, but there is no way to know when he may receive such messages, or be able to respond."

"At least we can hope he is on his way," Aragorn said with a sigh.

"But we must also assume we are on our own," Gimli added, not willing to place all their hopes on Gandalf's arrival, though he had endless faith in the wizard's abilities.

Legolas had not contemplated where Gandalf might be, but now that he considered it, he could not fathom the wizard being unaware of the plight looming over Gondor. "This is no idle threat we deal with. Surely he must sense this peril somehow, in the trees or the wind. It is as though the earth is crying." The elf exclaimed with frustration, and resisted the urge to run a hand over his forehead once more as he again felt the strange fatigue strike him.

Aragorn looked upon the elf with sympathy, knowing that he felt the darkness of this evil more than any of them, "If he is so far north, in the Shire or beyond, the death that Kirithnin spreads will not reach him for many weeks. He is most likely unaware of our troubles."

With a sigh Legolas nodded and sat at the table once more.

"Do we at least know how long this evil will continue to spread, and how many more innocents must die?" Harsol asked passionately, not able to sit and discuss death and evil as easily as his companions appeared to do so.

"The darkness will spread until it has consumed all living things, unless it is stopped. As for the murders in Minas Tirith, I have no knowledge on why they are happening, let alone when they will end. I am sorry," Legolas said sincerely, respecting the man's desire to protect the inhabitants of the city. "Aragorn, if you believe us finished, I would like to begin to search through your libraries."

Aragorn nodded, "Of course, Harsol will show you the way. I will join you later if I am able, but I fear my duties will keep me occupied for some hours."

"It is well, I can easily search on my own," Legolas replied, but was denied by Gimli.

"Oh no you won't. I'm coming too," the dwarf announced, standing up quickly and following the departing elf.

Legolas appeared honestly confused and said without jest or mockery, "Gimli, I will be reading through ancient scrolls for perhaps hours. You will most likely find your skills more useful elsewhere in the city. Perhaps on patrol with the guards."

The dwarf just shook his head, his mind made up, "Nay, I'm coming with you. You say this Kirithnin has no form I can fight with my axe, then I will fight him with the power of knowledge."

"That is not something you are used to," Legolas said, his voice still sincere.

"I know, but it's never too late to learn," Gimli answered smugly, then strode from the room ahead of his companion.

"The true danger may be in trying to teach you," Legolas muttered, but followed closely behind as Harsol led the way down the hall, showing them to the great library which was many flights below them.

Now only Arwen and Aragorn remained in the conference room. The king looked at his wife, stricken by the worry etched into the fine features of her face. But then she turned to him and smiled and her beauty was at once restored. He sat beside her, brightening her face even more.

"I am happy you have returned. This evil is horrible and your people have suffered under it. Your return will bring new light to their hearts, that none other could bring," Arwen noted, running a hand along his cheek.

Aragorn did the same and she sighed and closed her eyes at his touch, "And what of you my love? You are so weary, perhaps you should rest."

She nodded, unable to deny the truth to her husband, "I have found sleep elusive since I first heard the dark whispers, my heart has been so heavy with worry for this kingdom and land. But you have returned, and I feel safe once more. I will retire, for a short time to regain my strength. Take care and worry not for me but for your country. It needs you more."

With her dark hair flowing behind her, she left the room as well and disappeared down the hall. Aragorn sighed. He had wished so badly to return home to rest after the horrible experience of Brelan, and now he found more trouble in his own land than he had in the distant country. It was truly fatiguing but he could not afford rest at this time. He knew there were many things that required his attention and he was now without excuse not to begin to face them. Just as he stood to leave he heard footsteps approaching and Harsol reappeared in the doorway.

"Have Legolas and Gimli found their way?" Aragorn asked, noting how quickly he had returned.

"Yes, I had a servant lead them for I wished to speak with you. Before we take any further action I feel I must ask, what has happened to Risorine?" Harsol questioned, immediately bringing up old wounds of betrayal in Aragorn's mind. The king had not wished to deliver the news in this way, but the guard had asked him directly and he felt he owed him an answer.

"Risorine is dead. He perished in Brelan," Aragorn replied, sitting back down and settling in. Harsol was noticeably stricken. His mouth began to move to form questions, but Aragorn cut him off, motioning to the chair before him. "Sit Harsol, and I will explain all. But the tale is lengthy and many parts you will most likely not believe."

The stunned man nodded, still unable to speak, and listened intently to all Aragorn had to say. It was hard for the king to relive the pain of Brelan so soon after arriving home, but there was little to be done about it. The telling was indeed lengthy and went late into the day. Harsol remained stoic and said nothing throughout the telling, for Aragorn was sure to include all important details. The guard attempted to school his features so as not to reflect the grief, astonishment and betrayal he also felt, but failed for the most part. He was stricken quite hard by Risorine's betrayal, having been a friend of the captain. Aragorn tried to exclude all emotion from his voice as well, and did so much better than Harsol. He hoped by the time he finished its telling, Legolas would have found something of use to them in the archives beneath his home. Unless of course, his search was hindered in some way.

"It wouldn't kill them to dust around here every now and then. Impossible to read these things. Most of it is chicken scratches. Probably written by children or dictated by some other illiterate fool. Now in a dwarven library …"

Legolas tried desperately not to roll his eyes as the dwarf behind him continued to complain as he sorted through scroll and parchment in the dark library. He knew it was a bad idea for Gimli to help him, for he was more of a hindrance to be sure, and this was simply the proof he had worried of finding. Truly, the dwarf did not even know what he was searching for beyond the words Mornarad, Kirithnin, and the strange symbol they had observed, but still he looked through each scroll carefully, complaining when it was fragile and becoming angered if it was illegible, or Valar forbid, in Elvish, a tongue he did not speak or read. The writings that Gimli was able to decipher he quickly became bored with and often returned to the table Legolas sat at, peering over his shoulder and asking the same question every time.

"Found anything yet?"

Legolas's answer so far had always been a polite no, but he knew he would shortly lose his temper with his friend and most likely banish him and his so called help.

The only light in the room was provided by a single candle on each of the four nearby tables. The elf would have preferred a bit more light to ease his discomfort at being so far underground, but with so much ancient knowledge filling each shelf and space in the room, he knew open flame was not a thing to have in excess.

The two had been searching for several hours now and still had nothing to show for it, except perhaps a growing gap in their friendship as Gimli asked yet again if Legolas had found anything.

"My friend," Legolas replied curtly, grinding his teeth to hold his temper. "If I do find anything of interest, anything at all, be it about Kirithnin, the Mornarad or perhaps some wonderful recipe for a dwarvish meat pie that has been lost for these many ages, I promise you, you will be the first to know."

The near loss of control in the elf's voice and the deadly gleam intensifying in his eye did not escape Gimli's notice and he smartly turned back to his scrolls without further comment. But when enough time had passed, and he thought Legolas sufficiently calmed down, he did attempt a true conversation.

"Do we search for anything specific, my friend? Elvish, common, symbols, a name perhaps?" Gimli asked, finally admitting to himself that he was at a loss as to what he was doing.

"We search for answers," Legolas replied, his eyes quickly scouring the paper he held to the candle light.

"Answers, of course," Gimli grumbled, recognizing that his friend was in no mood for conversation. Needing to stretch his legs he walked through the aisles for some time, looking at the titles of several books, and glancing quickly over parchments he had no real hope of finding answers in. He eventually came to a corner where a small desk was placed with a chair that looked as though it had been built when Elrond was but an elfling. Gimli picked up a candle to better light his way and carefully looked over several papers that were on the table. They were very ancient and did not look as though they had been touched for many years. Perhaps he had found something of interest, he hoped, but alas, his hopes were crushed as he looked over the first page and saw the writing to be elvish once more.

_How can that damn language be everywhere? It is even in abundance in the halls of Men! What is this world coming to?_ Gimli pondered as he shuffled through the papers anyway. A page in the middle caught his eye – it had been written in a bright red ink that remained unfaded over time, making the words on the page stand out incredibly. Then Gimli smiled.

He could not read the words gracing the page, but the symbol drawn on the lower half of it was quite clear; the symbol of the Mornarad.

Gimli huffed with pride and immediately ran back to the front of the room with his treasure in one hand and candle still in the other.

"Ha ha! Legolas, I have found something! And you said I was hopeless! Well these dwarf eyes have found something your own could not find! What have you to say …"

"Gimli, watch out for that chair!"

"Ah! Damn these lights," the dwarf swore as he fell to the ground, having not seen the fallen chair in front of him. Then he swore again, louder and more fiercely than before for during his fall the flame of his candle had come too close to the edge of his scroll and now his precious prize was dwindling before his eyes as it burned. Gimli immediately began to blow on the paper, trying to save as much as he could. The symbol he had spotted remained intact, as did the writing above, but a few sentences had also been written below the illustration, and now they were lost to the fire except for a broken word or two that had narrowly escaped the flame, and most likely made little sense without the surrounding context.

Gimli cringed as he looked upon the partially destroyed document, and then glanced up Legolas, shrugging, "It may not have been that important."

"It is well," Legolas said bearing no malice towards him, and held out his hand. Gimli immediately handed him the parchment, but the elf shook his head, placed the paper down and put out his hand once more to help the dwarf off the floor. Gimli smiled and gladly accepted. Then he saw Legolas turn to examine the information he had found and his smile faded as the elf frowned.

"Is it badly damaged?"

Legolas shook his head, "It is well enough to read, only a sentence or two was lost along the bottom. Were there more papers with this one?"

Gimli nodded, having not thought to bring the rest since they had not had the picture he was looking for.

"Could you get them? This is out of context, most likely there are pages before and after it that will be useful." Legolas said, supplying Gimli with hope that he had not destroyed too much precious information, especially if there were more pages of text that he would deliver undamaged.

"Of course," Gimli nearly ran off again, but decided speed was not the greatest thing to bear in the dimly lit, crowded room, so walked back to the table. He grabbed the rest of the papers on it and brought them back for his friend's inspection. Legolas still appeared to be deep in thought concerning the first page, but smiled when Gimli brought the rest. He immediately sorted through them and found the preceding page to his and read them together. The elf's features quickly turned grim as he read, but he also looked satisfied.

"This is what we needed. Come, we should take these to Aragorn," Legolas suggested, already making his way up the stairs, completely engrossed in the pages in front of him. Gimli was not far behind, the small bundle of remaining papers in his arms. The stairs were long and winding, but well lit thanks to torches that were mounted in the wall every few feet.

They were halfway to the top when the power of Kirithnin truly struck the elf for the first time. Legolas had been climbing the stairs without thought as he read over the papers in his hands when suddenly the feeling of fatigue he had been combating the entire day intensified twenty fold. A loud gasp escaped his lips as his head inexplicably began to swim, his vision was dotted with spots and his legs buckled beneath him as his body became numb and nearly all his energy was stolen from him. The attack was sudden and unexpected, so much so that the elf was in mid-step when it struck. He immediately tried to step back, but his balance had all but disappeared and his legs could barely support him. His foot missed the stair and then he was falling, suddenly too tired and his reflexes too slowed to save himself.

Behind the elf, Gimli inexplicably began to feel as though something was wrong, and looked up from the scrolls he carried.

"Elf, did you … Legolas!" Gimli dropped the papers in his arms and ran forward when he saw Legolas stumble. The dwarf managed to climb the few steps between them in time and caught the elf before he hit the hard stone, but the sudden dead weight threw off Gimli's balance as well and soon they were both falling down the winding stairs. Gimli grunted in pain and tried to brace his fall and hold on to his friend, while Legolas remained motionless and unresponsive to what happened around him.

Thankfully, Gimli still had enough wits about him to try and stop their fall. With one arm still gripping his friend tightly, the dwarf managed to roll himself up high enough to grab on to the railing that was now above their heads. They stopped suddenly as their momentum was halted and Gimli grunted as he felt his back impact painfully against the edge of the stair. There was a loud echo of two other objects striking and Gimli cringed as he turned to see Legolas's head had also collided solidly against the marble floor.

Still not releasing the elf, Gimli commented, "Even I felt that one, laddie."

Legolas moaned then and seemed to be regaining command of himself. He rolled over and half sat up, eyes closed as he cradled the back of his head with his hand and tried not to move as the waves of nausea rolled over him.

"Legolas? Elf? Don't be so quick to move, that lump on your head will be the size of your ego soon enough, and feel just as good as being shot by one of your arrows," Gimli said, his light words laced with concern for his friend. He knew elves did not just lose their balance for no reason and that had been a tremendous fall, for both of them. Something had to be wrong with his friend, and with the times so dark that thought worried him.

The eyes of the elf opened for a moment. He looked at Gimli, then up the stairs they had fallen down, and then shut them again as he continued to shift and tried to work out in his mind what had happened. Slowly, he took a deep breath and then he reached a hand out, his other still clutching his skull for it throbbed greatly, and then he grabbed onto the railing and started to stand.

"I am well my friend, thank you," his words were forced as though his mind was not yet ready to create speech. He gripped the railing tightly as he tried to regain his balance. Gimli was instantly by his side, helping to support his friend.

"Easy lad, you had a bad fall."

But Legolas would not be helped. He shook off the dwarf's support and said only, "We have to get this information to Aragorn."

Then he slowly began to move and pick up the papers they had scattered along the stairwell. The elf seemed well enough now so Gimli allowed him to walk away on his power but the dwarf was still very confused, and somewhat sore, about what had happened and took hold of the elf's wrist as he leaned over to pick up another piece of parchment.

"Aragorn will get all this information in due time, what I want to know is what just happened and why?" Gimli demanded, not about to have his sore back to have been for nothing.

Legolas looked honestly confused for a moment and then shrugged, attempting nonchalance, "I merely lost my footing mellon-nin, I was too concentrated on the scrolls you brought me and missed the stair."

Then he walked up a few more steps, continuing to pick up papers. Gimli followed closely behind and stood in front of him, not to be ignored.

"I may jest and deny your true abilities, but we both know that an elf does not just lose their balance, no matter how lost in thought he may be. So I will ask you again, what just happened to you?"

Legolas seemed honestly annoyed by the questioning and impatient to move past it, but there was also a noticeable weariness in his eyes and movements, as if each step was being forced through great fatigue. With a sigh he finally replied, "There is no time to explain such things. We must make haste."

"I think we have lots of time," Gimli began, resolute once more to get answers, but was surprised when Legolas turned on him, his voice screaming with impatience and almost rage.

"What time do you think we have, son of Gloin? Time to sit around and bicker over petty things while Gondor and perhaps all of Middle-earth dies around us? We do not have such time. Even now the Mornarad are gaining strength. Even now the darkness grows thicker and yet here we remain, doing nothing. There has been another murder in this city, - did you know that? - and with every hour that passes Kirithnin spreads further and further, and we have precious time to stop them. Perhaps not enough. So, if it pleases you Master Dwarf, I will continue with my duties, as I have promised, and do all I can to stop this darkness, before it is too late."

Then Legolas began up the stairs once more, leaving behind a stunned dwarf. After digesting Legolas's words, Gimli snapped out his stupor and pursued his friend, having more questions than ever.

"What do you mean there has been another murder? How? Where?"

Legolas stopped and leaned against the railing, seemingly too tired to argue. The energy his anger had fuelled in him had quickly faded, and left him strangely weary once more, "I do not know."

Gimli huffed, not pleased with that response, and believed the elf was only trying to distract him, to keep him from asking more questions about his health, "Then how can you be so sure someone has died?"

Legolas turned and fixed a weary but stern stare on his friend, then answered plainly, almost regretfully, "Because I can feel it."

Then he turned away, hastened up the stairs and disappeared from sight.

TBC

More soon. Stick around!

So, who's picked up their RotK DVD? I got mine, and feel like such a horrible fan, I'm so busy with graduation stuff that I haven't had time to watch the special features or anything. Are there any good Orli interviews or anything I should watch first?

Here's to my fabulous reviewers, that give me the strength and inspiration to do what I do. Whatever it is that I do – we're still trying to work that part out.

wellduh …- Heroes don't get breaks, sorry. Unless it's like broken bones, they can have lots of those. Don't pretend that you mind though. I know you love an exhausted Legolas, Aragorn and Gimli, fighting evil to their last breath. They probably love it too. Thanks for reviewing.

Star-Stallion – Ouch. Were you slapped hard? I have no worries about that really, none of my friends even know what a fanfiction is, let alone know I write them. Oh yeah, the symbols aren't a good thing, watch out for those.

Sabrina – I like the three of them together too, although I don't mind a good Leggy/Aragorn friendship adventure fic. I just find it more interesting if you can have all three of them, because their personalities are so different and conflicting sometimes. And they're so close to each other that it makes for good angst too. All three heroes have a rather large part in this fic, though I do lean towards Legolas for the most part.

Cosmic Castaway – "Three musketeers" that's awesome! I'm probably going to start calling them that now. Updates will be coming, but the next two weeks or so are going to be hectic for me. I will try though.

LOTRFaith – Glad you like my Arwen. You got her spot on. She won't be running around with a sword or anything, although I'm sure she's very capable. Don't really know much about the Aztecs, I just always hear about cults cutting out hearts – it seemed the thing to do.

Templa Otmena – man, evil little summary, evil little cliffies, and evil little hints. I'm just an all around evil person I guess. I do recall your pleading words in the Buffy reviews, but I'm glad to see you here too. The Buffy one will get finished someday … in a galaxy far, far away.

Snow-Glory – I may have to ban you from reviewing, you seem to be awfully close to a lot of my plot points. I will have to throw in misleading clues to screw you up. Wow! SoM was your first story ever? That's so cool. I feel like a legacy or something. Make sure you stick around then, there's lots of good angst, and h/c fun to come.

What's wrong with Leggy? What's wrong with Gondor? What did Gimli burn? These answers and more, all in the next chapter, same LotR time, same LotR fanfiction.

Reviews are appreciated. Robinyj


	4. Unwanted Answers

Do you want more? Dangles next chapter in front of everyone. Can't have it. Want it? Can't have it. Want it? Can't … oh you got it! Well, fair's fair. Enjoy the next chapter of …

Overcoming Darkness

By Robinyj

The city of Minas Tirith was normally a place of brilliance and life, as well as the greatest city of Men in all of Middle-Earth. People walked free and happy in the streets, children played contently to all hours of the day, and every night as people returned home and settled in for sleep, they took comfort in the knowledge that they were protected in the city walls and felt safe.

Sadly, such was now not the case in the white city. At night, the streets were deserted of life besides stray cats or dogs, which also seemed to be less in number, and the homes that usually lay snug and secure, shook with fear. Doors were locked, windows were shut, and as the sun set each evening, no sounds were heard from any of the houses. As night fell on Minas Tirith, the city died and cowered. Nine murders there were all ready, and no one was eager to be the tenth. But for some, the choice was not theirs to make.

On the eastern edge of the city, on the lowest of the seven levels, footfalls could be heard, moving swiftly, their panicked and frightened owner panting for breath but too terrified to stop and breathe. The boy, no more than thirteen, had left the shelter of the city walls to hunt in the wild and turned back too late to outrun the setting sun. Now he ran, trying to reach his home on the fourth level, or at least any part of the city where people lived, but there were more footsteps behind him, and they were quickly catching up as they did not seem to tire.

It was a group of men.

He had spotted them on his way back in the city, and they had seen him in return. At a glance they appeared as normal men, merely standing in the street, perhaps guarding it, but there was one man with cold blue eyes that had looked at him, in him, as if trying to examine his soul and it frightened him. It was the blue eyed man that had the knife, and it was him that had been the first to chase after the boy who now ran for his life.

The boy turned a corner, the long legs of the men behind him still gaining, and saw houses ahead. He screamed, "Help! Somebody help me! Please!"

But no guards patrolled this street, and no men or citizens of strong will lived in the houses he saw. Instead the elderly and young that resided there covered their eyes, prayed someone else would help the poor soul, and pretended not to hear. Such was the fear that the Mornarad had managed to imbed in the citizens of Gondor.

Tears streamed from the boy's cheeks, and he was about to shout again, but a hand appeared over his mouth, stopping all sound and jerking him backwards. He fell awkwardly, half fighting, half trying to brace his fall. His head hit the ground and dots marred his vision. The men above him were smiling. The cold blue eyes twinkled in delighted anticipation.

The boy kicked and tried to scream, but hands held him and kept him from yelling. The same hands picked him up and carried him two blocks, into the alley beside a workhouse where no houses stood, only industrial buildings. Three men held down the struggling boy, while the cold, blue eyed man stood watching, smiling, and twirling his dagger.

"Go get the beacon," the man ordered another, who quickly went inside the workhouse.

Now crying openly, the boy tried anything to get away. He bit the hands over his mouth, he kicked the arms of those holding him, and when he could chance to speak a word he pleaded, for mercy and for life.

The blue eyed leader looked at him and smirked, "You will receive neither." And held up his knife to glint in the moonlight.

A moment later the second man returned with a glowing yellow object. It was circular, about the size of a large lantern, with a black top and bottom, and strange symbols inscribed into the metal; circles with lightning bolts.

The boy studied it as it was brought closer to him, wondering how it could glow in such a way, for it was clear no fire was held within the object. With ever mounting fear, he thought that sorcery must somehow be involved. The beacon was placed on the ground, near the boy's right arm; he felt no heat from it, confirming no flame lived inside.

The blue eyed man loomed again, knife still twirling. The amusement and anticipation was gone from him now and was replaced by solemnity and a sense of duty. The man stared straight ahead then kneeled next to the boy, who had grown quiet and observed with morbid fascination what would be his own death.

Slowly, the man reached out and took the boy's wrist firmly. He ran his blade along the palm of the hand, creating a long, oozing gash. Then the man forced the bloodied hand to come in contact with the beacon and as he spoke the words, "Kirithnin, luet ti Mornarad ponu bil ghit rashna, wre nik vini sretcha tre ige nonathen" _(Kirithnin, your Mornarad offer you this life to help you rise and strengthen)_ the beacon began to glow brighter. As it did, the man released the boy's wrist. He immediately tried to pull away but his hand was frozen in place against the cold metal, and no matter how hard he tried he could not move it. As his blood touched the cool yellow stone he could feel the power residing inside. It was dark and evil. The boy instinctively knew that this was the cause of the poison that was killing the land, and now it was killing him as well.

The men around him smiled as he succumbed to the dark power, and the leader stepped forward once more, knife now held purposefully.

Hands remained placed over the boy's mouth and restraining him, but in this great final moment of the Mornarad's evening anticipation won out over wariness, and the grips loosened only slightly. It was not enough for the boy to regain his freedom, but as the final knife stroke fell to pierce his heart, he was finally allowed to scream.

-------------------

The candles had sunk low in the conference room by the time Aragorn had finished his long speech with Harsol. The guard was noticeably and understandably upset about not only the death, but also the betrayal of Risorine, a man he had considered a friend. It had been hard to listen to the tale of the former captain's elaborate betrayal, as well as the pain and suffering caused because of it, but Harsol took the news the best he could. Aragorn had stopped many times in the telling while Harsol composed himself, or allowed the truth to sink in, and now night had fallen on the city.

In the end, the man was unable to decide what hurt more – the fact that Risorine was dead, or that everything he had been told by him in life had been a lie. Needing to decide the answers to such questions, Harsol excused himself shortly after Aragorn finished speaking, and retired to his quarters to consider all he had been told.

Once alone, Aragorn sat, tilted back his head, and sighed heavily, as if the simple exhalation could rid his mind of the plethora of worries and problems placed there. His city and land were dying of plague, his citizens were being murdered in the streets, and now his most likely choice for a new captain of his guards was distraught with grief.

"A full day for me, to say the least," Aragorn muttered, as he stretched and then rose, finally having to face his duties. He walked to the door and peered out. The security of his city and people were his first priority, and he knew just who to talk to for now, and most likely where to find him.

Meretis, the guard that had been too stubborn to leave the conference room hallway earlier now stood at the end the hall, on the very borders of where Aragorn had forbid him to stay. The king had to smile at the man's relentless loyalty, something he had admired but had found little time to praise throughout the long trip to Brelan. Meretis had his back to the door but appeared on full alert, certain that no man or beast would get by him. He heard the door open behind him and turned around to see Aragorn, beckoning him into the room. The guard couldn't comply fast enough and nearly sprinted down the hall at his king's request.

"Yes, my lord?" Meretis asked immediately, eager to be of assistance.

"I must speak with you," Aragorn said, ushering him into the conference room. "I am putting you in charge of security for the time being, Meretis. I think you are ready and capable of the task."

Meretis bowed humbly, but also grinned madly, "Thank you my lord, but what about Harsol, surely he would be your first choice."

Aragorn nodded, not denying this, "I have just informed Harsol of Risorine's unfortunate fate. I do not believe he will be returning to duty for some time, at least not until he overcomes his surprise and grief over the matter."

Meretis's features softened in understanding, "Of course. The news came as a shock to all of us."

"Well, you've had the luxury of knowing far in advance, so I trust you are comfortable with the situation. Now, about security; I am unsure what measures have already been taken, but I would like a curfew set for all citizens – they are not to be out after nightfall, or close to. Also, there are to be as many guards posted around the city as possible, not in too small of groups for we do not know how many of these murderers there are. Send out members of my personal guard if necessary, but I want the streets well enforced. Harsol has most likely already ensured most of these items, but double check, and see that everyone has a job. I want these murderers caught as soon as possible, before another victim is found, if we are able."

"All ready the hour has grown late, my lord," Meretis informed him sadly, indicating they may be too late to save whoever the Mornarad had targeted for the night.

Aragorn did not flinch, but responded, "Then you'd be best to hurry."

Meretis bowed again and stiffly turned to leave the king with his burdened thoughts. He had barely taken a step out the door when two figures came rushing into the room, the first easily side-stepping the guard and the second practically barrelling into him.

"Aragorn, we have found some of the answers we were looking for," Legolas announced as he strode hastily into the room, delicate papers in hand.

Gimli rushed in behind him, also carrying several scrolls, "What's this _we_ business? _I_ found them." He countered, partly out of pride and partly to annoy the elf.

Legolas gave him a conspiratorial look, "Do not force me to mention a certain dwarf's adventure with a candle and parchment, my friend."

"Then you'd best not entice me to mention a certain elf's intimate introduction to a flight of stairs," Gimli replied smoothly, meeting his friend's stern glare. The dwarf would have said more of Legolas's odd behaviour but he wished to speak privately with Aragorn about it, knowing the elf would deny such claims, and truly the information they carried held immediate importance.

Both were relentless in their arguments though and did not break eye contact until a few moments later, and only due to Aragorn's bidding, "My friends, though your quarrels are sometimes entertaining I must ask you to restrain yourselves for now. Please, what answers have you found?"

Legolas nodded, but decided to make a final point as he gazed at Gimli and crossed his arms smugly, "Gimli, since you were the one to find these documents, I believe it is your place to tell Aragorn what they say."

Gimli appeared flustered for a moment, trying to come up with a reply, and when nothing came to mind he sat down forlornly and glared at the elf, "You made your point, I cannot read them. But hurry up and tell us what _we_ found."

The elf picked up the sheaf of papers, at first shaking his head at Gimli's attitude, then becoming solemn once more as he recalled the matter at hand.

"From what I've read so far, I at least know how the victims are being chosen, to some extent, and how many there will be. And if these scrolls are to be believed, we now know why the murders are happening," Legolas said, arranging the papers in the proper order so he could better deliver the information.

"I do not believe the libraries hold anything but verified facts. Whatever you found there can be trusted, to my knowledge," Aragorn assured him as he prepared to hear this new information. Though he was grateful for anything to help him fight this evil, he had a feeling the reasoning behind the monstrosities being committed in his city would not be something he wanted to hear. And he was right.

Aragorn was focussed on his friends, but noticed Meretis standing behind Legolas, trying to catch the king's attention. The former ranger had forgotten he was there, and waved a hand for his dismissal.

"Return to your duties, Meretis, for there is much to be done. I will fill you in on the situation as soon as convenience allows," Aragorn promised, as he turned back to his friends.

"Yes, Lord Elessar," Meretis said, bowing once more and then shuffling out of the room, feeling very estranged from such affairs as those that occurred between man, elf, and dwarf. When he was gone and out of earshot Legolas continued.

"First of all, Harsol was right when he said thirteen cattle had been slaughtered, and just as many citizens of Minas Tirith will be killed as well if the Mornarad are not stopped in time," Legolas announced, reading over the first page in the stack.

"Thirteen. There have been only nine, so we still have some time to subdue what plans they may have," Gimli reasoned aloud, then asked: "What happens after thirteen have been lost?"

Legolas did not need to read any further to know the answer, "If all thirteen sacrifices are completed then the Mornarad are victorious, Kirithnin's evil is spread into every living creature in Middle-Earth, and the death that it brings with it will destroy life as we know it, and cannot be undone."

"Surely we cannot have so little time until certain doom," Aragorn exclaimed, rising to look over the papers Legolas held.

"It is true. We have only three more nights to find and stop the Mornarad," Legolas said, confident but remorseful.

"But why are the deaths necessary? What purpose do these men wish to fulfill through murder?" Gimli questioned.

"It is through these sacrifices alone that the Mornarad have been able to accomplish what they have thus far – the darkening of the sun, the wilting of the crops, it is all because of these murders," Legolas said as he shuffled through the papers once more to find a more precise answer, then he found the text and read directly from the page. "With each life that is taken, first of animal, then of man, the darkness of Kirithnin will spread and grow stronger. Every living thing is connected to nature in some way, for it is the earth that creates life. Kirithnin is a separate entity that takes away life only. With each natural life that is sacrificed to Kirithnin he is able to make a stronger connection with nature to then drain her of her life force and spread his poison further into the earth."

"I am not sure I fully understand," Aragorn admitted after a pause, "How do the deaths affect Kirithnin so acutely. People and animals die everyday, yet this is not Kirithnin's doing."

Legolas thought it over for a moment. He understood quite well what the scrolls meant, for his memory of his earlier teachings of the Mornarad were quickly coming back to him, and he tried to think of the best way to explain.

"Picture Kirithnin as a tunnel that runs through the earth, filled with darkness and death, and surrounded by nature and the living world," Legolas began, thinking of a fair analogy, "Always there is a barrier between the two, keeping the opposing powers from affecting each other. The purpose of the Mornarad is to slowly break away this barrier. By sacrificing a living being to Kirithnin directly, it is like chipping a small hole in the barrier, allowing Kirithnin to slowly seep into the living world. The hole repairs itself as soon as the creature has fully passed from life to death, but the damage is already done. As the deaths continue, more of this poison breaks through, destroying and weakening nature as it spreads, and increasing Kirithnin's power. By the time the final sacrifice is made, the barrier is weak, and with the final death it crumbles, and cannot be rebuilt, giving Kirithnin dominance over all that once lived."

"It is a frightening picture you paint us, Legolas," Aragorn replied after a moment, now understanding the true danger and workings of Kirithnin.

"So by killing first the cattle, and now Gondor's citizens, the Mornarad have been able to spread Kirithnin's darkness into the land, and the very sky? Such a feat would take a dark force of great power, how could something of this not have been detected before?" Gimli asked, also horrified by the harrowing words of his friend.

The elf quickly scanned the parchments but couldn't seem to find what he was looking for, "I thought I read something of a beacon." He muttered.

Aragorn turned at this, indicating the few sheets he held, "It is here." Then he read as well: "The power of Kirithnin is closely guarded by the Mornarad. The dark power of their master is channelled through a beacon that was forged centuries ago over many years in the deepest fire pits; it is the only thing capable of containing his power. The Mornarad may attempt to spread the darkness of Kirithnin throughout the land every thousand years if the beacon remains in their possession, for after this time Kirithnin's power begins to diminish. If their rituals or sacrifices are interrupted or not completed, then Kirithnin must sleep for another thousand years until the time comes when the Mornarad are successful in their quest."

"Let us hope that day never comes," Gimli mumbled, turning over all this new information. "So if we stop these murders from happening for at least one night, then we stop the spread of this evil, and all becomes well once more."

"It would seem," Aragorn agreed, putting down the pages and beginning to pace the room. In a way he did not wish to know more on this matter, for dark magic and death were things he had sought to put in his past. When he had decided to reclaim his throne, he had promised that he would not allow darkness to take his land and people again, and now it seemed he had failed in that promise. But as much as he wished to ignore the matter, and simply hope it went away, he knew such a thing was not possible. He turned around then, ready to hear more, and was surprised to see that Legolas was leaning hard against the table, his breathing deep and eyes shut as if trying to ward off some pain or weariness. Aragorn became immediately concerned and crossed the room swiftly, garnering Gimli's attention as well, and placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.

Legolas looked up swiftly. When his friends had turned away he had taken a moment to try and concentrate on ending the relentless pounding in his head, as well as the fatigue he felt, but strangely found that the more he thought about such things, the worse they became. As he gripped the table in an attempt to remain standing, he concentrated on breathing through the nausea and did not notice at first when Aragorn approached him.

Turning to see his friend's concerned face, the elf immediately schooled his breathing to normal and pushed away from the table, finding the adrenaline that his surprise had caused was enough to give his legs strength to stand. The king's concern did not fade at the façade, for having grown up with elves, and Legolas, he knew when they were hiding something.

"What ails you Legolas? This is not the first time I have caught you in such a way," Aragorn pointed out, his voice conveying his worry for his long time friend.

Legolas attempted a smile and shook his head, "I am well Aragorn, do not fear for me. I think mayhap the sea-longing is affecting …"

"You lie through your teeth, elf," Gimli exclaimed, showing true indignation at his friend's words. "Sea longing? Humph! I have seen you suffering from sea longing and that was not it. It has never affected you in such a way as this, or caused you to faint in your waking hours, least of all not on a flight of stairs deep underground and away from the sea's call."

Aragorn's concern piqued, "You fainted? Sit down for Valar's sake. When? Why?"

Legolas sighed in exasperation as his friends forced him to sit, despite the fact that the weariness and pain had passed for now. His mind searched for some way to appease them, but came up with little, "I do not …"

Once again he was cut off, but this time by a much softer, yet more powerful voice, "He feels the darkness of Kirithnin spreading. As it affects the trees and the soil, so does it affect Legolas, and me as well."

All eyes turned to the figure of Arwen in the doorway behind them. Her silken white robe matched the pale sheen of her skin, which was emphasized more by her dark hair. She stepped completely into the room, seeming wearier than she had earlier that day, even before she went to rest.

Aragorn approached her and placed a loving hand on her cheek, "My love, if you suffer in any way I beg you tell me. How is this evil affecting you, and why did you not speak of this sooner?"

Arwen looked at him with truthful, penetrating eyes, "I was not sure until this night. I thought perhaps that the tendrils of evil I felt, and the exhaustion I began to feel, were caused only by my imagination, or worries for this land, but this very night it has grown worse, and I see now that Legolas feels it as well. The darkness is growing, and as it does my strength wanes." Seeing the growing concern in Aragorn's eyes she added, "But do not fear for me, its grip is weak and not a heavy burden. I am concerned, but besides this I feel only a noticeable weariness in my waking hours, that grows slightly stronger each day. I can easily live with it for now."

Aragorn was assured by this, knowing his wife would not lie to him, and kissed her gently on the forehead. She smiled up at him, and he led her to the table once more.

"It is as she says," Legolas admitted as Gimli's glare towards him seemed to be daring him to argue, and once more proclaim he was 'quite well'. "The shadow is a passing thing, bringing with it only weariness. It bears a light load on my well being."

"I said they should not fear for _me_, I mentioned nothing of you prince of Mirkwood," Arwen pointed out, unwilling to let Legolas slip away from scrutiny so easily.

"You suffer from Kirithnin because you are of elvish descent?" Gimli guessed, knowing it made sense considering Kirithnin's withering affect on nature and all elves' strong connection to the natural world.

Legolas protested that, "Suffer is too strong a word. I would label it as an annoyance only, much as you are master dwarf." But Arwen nodded in agreement with Gimli's question.

"Legolas, do not deny your affliction in such ways, you know well it only increases your friends' distress," Arwen reprimanded him, knowing he did not speak the truth. "Being an elf means being connected to nature in a way other beings cannot understand. It also means that if the earth is in pain, for any reason, then so are we. What I have felt these past days I know you must suffer tenfold, for I have the human blood of my father to diminish Kirithnin's darkness, but more than that I have chosen a mortal life, as you are well aware and have been losing with my immortality many of the elven qualities I once possessed, making me further protected from this evil."

This was true. As the years had passed she had slowly found that the precious gifts of immortality faded from her. Her eyesight and hearing had already diminished to that of a mortal, and she was now beginning to lose her connection with the living world. Animals reacted more hesitantly to her than they once had, and the plants and trees had little reaction to her song. It was a terrible grief to her after spending so many years with these gifts, but such was what she knew she would lose for her love for Aragorn and accepted it.

Legolas sighed, still unwilling to admit his body was slowly betraying him for whatever reason. Something had happened to him earlier, he would admit, it was not usual for him to faint without reason, but the fatigue was truly manageable at most times, and the throbbing in his head was caused only by his fall. As for the tendrils of evil that he felt in the earth, he could block them out when he felt the need, and they hardly affected him. So certainly the fact that he showed signs of fatigue was not cause for such worry.

"My friends, truly, I am well. Yes, I can sense this darkness in the land, but who cannot? And perhaps the power of Kirithnin draws at me but I have yet to be overwhelmed. Behold," Legolas stood to make his point and began to pace the room. "I stand before you whole and unaided. I admit to a certain weariness within me, but truly it is tolerable."

"For now," Aragorn said, taking the elf's words for truth, but still worried by the situation. "Undoubtedly it will grow worse."

"Perhaps," Legolas conceded, "But _for now_, such is not the case."

"What happened to you before then? When you fell?" Gimli prodded, wanting answers.

Legolas shut his eyes and turned away, not wishing to remember, but knowing he had to appease his friends, "I have felt this fatigue and heard these dark whispers all day, but I have been able to overcome them easily, and forget them almost as soon as I notice. But a few moments ago, on the stairs, the weariness increased incredibly, as if the life energy was somehow being drawn from me, and everything around me. The dark fingers in the earth seemed to be reaching out for more at that instance, but were unable to find a firm grip and receded. It took me by surprise and I fell, but the moment passed quickly and my strength returned, though admittedly I was somewhat more fatigued afterwards."

"I felt it as well, only a few minutes ago, it is what woke me from my sleep," Arwen added.

"What caused this attack to be so sudden?" Aragorn asked. "If you constantly feel such darkness, why were you so overtaken for a single instance?" His question was directed to both Legolas and Arwen, and was not heartened when both averted their eyes. It was the elf prince that stepped forward first to answer the king's question, though he did so unhappily.

"From what I know, and felt, it was caused by a sudden increase in strength of Kirithnin's hold on this world. I can only guess that at the same moment that the darkness briefly invaded all around me, the Mornarad succeeded in finding their next sacrifice, and one of your citizens has again been murdered."

There was silence for a moment as Aragorn's features hardened and his fists clenched.

"But you do not know this for certain," Aragorn pointed out, desperate to believe no harm had fallen his city, though he knew an elf's instincts were well to be trusted.

"No, I do not, but I feel strongly that I am right. I am sorry," Legolas replied softly and then slowly witnessed Aragorn's resolve harden even more as he paced the room, his mind clearly distraught.

"We will find these men, and they will be punished for their deeds. You say you know how the victims are chosen, tell me." Aragorn demanded quite suddenly and forcefully.

Legolas nodded and returned to the sheets of information on the table, "According to this, there are always thirteen deaths to ensure that every element of nature is affected. One animal and then man is murdered for each month of the year. This allows Kirithnin's poison to remain strong year-round as it is spread into every month and season, whether it be summer, fall, spring or winter."

"But that is only twelve," Gimli said, understandably confused.

"The last is a special case. The final death must be very powerful for it serves as the greatest conduit for Kirithnin to pass through, allowing him to take a firm and unbreakable grip on this world," Legolas replied, not wishing to divulge this particular piece of information.

"Harsol said that the death of the land was felt the greatest just after the thirteenth animal was slaughtered," Aragorn recalled. "You made a point that the last was a calf did you not?"

"Yes, I did. The calf would be considered new to this world, being only a few days old, and thus would hold a very strong connection with nature because it had only just been granted life, and was still being nourished to grow. By using its intense bond with nature, Kirithnin was able to spread further and faster than ever. When the calf died the connection was broken, but for the few moments that Kirithnin's power spread into the earth it was able to plant more seeds of poison everywhere, that continue to grow," Legolas explained and then paused, allowing his friends to absorb this. "The final sacrifice will have to hold that same power or greater for the Mornarad to succeed in their quest."

"But if that is true, then the thirteenth person murdered would have to be …" Gimli could not say it, did not wish to think it.

"I sain neth hen," Legolas murmured softly.

"The youngest child," Aragorn whispered, also mortified by the implications. He looked at Legolas and saw the haunted look on the elf's face, indicating his words were all too true. Arwen and Gimli seemed as shocked and disgusted by the news as he, and Aragorn knew he had to find a way to protect his city from these men. Bad enough his citizens were being hunted and killed in the streets, but the thought of anyone slaughtering a baby in such a way made him ill.

"It is clear to me that these men must be stopped at all costs. What ways do we have of defeating them?" Aragorn asked a moment later.

"I have read nothing that tells of a way to destroy Kirithnin, or even battle against him should his grip take hold," Legolas replied. "It seems our only hope is to do as Gimli said, and keep these men from finishing their sacrifices. If they miss just one, Kirithnin cannot spread further, and the damage caused may still be repaired."

"That is not the most reassuring plan. We would need the greatest volumes of luck to chance to catch these murderers in the act, let alone stop them. We do not know how many of these Mornarad there are, or who their next victim will be," Gimli pointed out.

Aragorn nodded, "I also do not like such an unstable plan of action. Is there no way to find where these Mornarad stay hidden?"

"Nay, as I have said, they are regular men and may be anyone within your city or without," Legolas said, not holding out much hope.

"This beacon that they use to channel Kirithnin's power may prove useful in their defeat if we could find such a thing," Gimli noted. "It must need to be kept in some special, safeguarded area to not have been found in so long, away from prying eyes and strangers. Is there any chance of finding it instead?"

"I believe that the beacon may well be useful, but I do not know how we may find it," Legolas said. Aragorn thought his voice sounded guarded, as if he held something back.

"Is it not in the scrolls? They have been abundant in information so far," Arwen said, amazed they had been so fortunate as to find such a useful wealth of knowledge.

"It was, but such knowledge is now gone, it seems," Legolas said sadly.

"What do you mean 'gone'? Is a page missing?" Gimli asked, hating how his friend sometimes spoke in circles. Legolas merely sighed and held up one of the pages for Gimli's inspection. The bright red ink and symbol indicated that it was the first parchment the dwarf had found in the library. He looked at the elf with a question on his tongue, but Legolas nodded before he got it out.

"I see," Gimli said, glum and ashamed as he handed back the page.

"What of us that do not?" Aragorn asked, knowing he had missed something.

"This page was damaged and several lines of information have been lost. I believe they spoke of the location of the beacon," Legolas replied, adding it back to the pile.

"It was my fault. I found the page and in my haste did not watch my step. My flame met unfortunately with the parchment," Gimli said, remorseful and head hung low. "But I would like to point out that your library is dangerous and in serious need of some sort of cleaning service upon it."

"I will have it looked after at once," Aragorn said, brooking no ill feelings towards the dwarf or his brief lapse of clumsiness.

"Well, good then," Gimli seemed satisfied, crossed his arms and said no more for a time.

Legolas looked thoughtfully at his friend and added, "The information was undoubtedly outdated by any means. The beacon could not have stayed in one spot these many centuries and avoided detection, there was little harm done." Gimli nodded but it was clear he wanted the matter dropped, which the others were not against. Before anyone could move to speak the sound of heavy, fast footfalls was heard racing down the hall. All eyes turned to the door as Meretis burst through, panting, and lacking ceremony despite the high presence he stood in.

"What is wrong, Meretis?" Aragorn asked as the guard drew in breath, though he feared he knew the answer.

"I am sorry my lord, but there has been another murder. I knew you would want to know," Meretis replied, standing again at full attention.

The room's occupants all appeared grieved to actually hear the claim verified, but none were entirely shocked due to the warning they had received from Legolas on the matter.

"Looks as though you were right, elf," Gimli said in one of his rare, sincere tones.

"For once my friend, I longed to be wrong."

TBC

I have an un-fanfic related question for all of you. My friend and I nearly came to blows as we debated this question, so I put it to you. In TTT at the battle of helm's deep after Gimli makes his first kill he says, "Two already."

Legolas replies, "I'm on seventeen."

Now, does Gimli reply, "I'll have no pointy ear outscoring me."

Or, "I have no pointy arrows scoring me."

I won't tell you which I think it is, but we have very different opinions on the matter. Your help is appreciated.

Sorry this took so long (and it was so boring. I hate filler chapters, but they're necessary). The next chapter is half done, it contains the action I know you've all been waiting for, and the explanations are all done so we don't have to do any more of that boring stuff. Should just be action, h/c and angst from here on in. You know, the good stuff. It's what I like anyway. Enough about me though, time to give a big hug and round of applause to my reviewers.

Goody – Particular thanks for reviewing each chapter, and I hope I can keep you guessing.

NycteaScandiaca – You were spoiled, but I love when people find my old fics and read them for the first time. Your reviews for those were greatly appreciated little suprises.

Laebeth – I love your reasoning. "Go Gimli" for destroying information so the story's longer. That is the best positive attitude I've ever seen!

Firnsarnien – So glad to see you are here for the ride as well and thank you for that warm welcome. And you can definitely expect quite a bit more angst in the future. Next chapter even.

Sabrina – You asked for answers and here they are. I may have tried to pack too much info into one chapter though, I just didn't want to have to present a whole lot later, I admit.

Nolwelen – Well, I'm not sure how to keep it 'interesting' without being too harsh, and I can't promise I will, but if it gets harsh I'll give you fair warning. Thank you for your very kind words, they are greatly appreciated.

CosmicCastaway – It's very fortunate that you like all three characters, because I have very specific plans for each of them. Usually I just know what Legolas is going to do and Aragorn and Gimli are there for the ride, but they all have very important roles in this fic, so I hope you'll enjoy. (smiles at the Homer dance)

Kelsey – Not sure I know what the Helter Skelter thing is. Do you mean Charles Manson? Most of your questions have been answered in this chapter, but you were very right about one thing; no one can be trusted. Dun dun dun. Sorry, no Brelan characters will be making an appearance in this fic. It's chock full of OCs as it is anyway, I think.

Templa Otmena – Pretty much all my little ideas just come to me as I'm writing. In Malinya, that whole scene where Legolas gets stabbed, pretty much all I had for an outline was that the stone saves Leggy's life, all that stuff about the glowing and the energy and the connection just came to me as I typed. It makes writing really interesting for me, I never know what's going to happen! As always, I love hearing from you.

Snow-Glory – I said stop guessing! You were kind of right and kind of wrong this time around, but you're walking on thin ice now. (just kidding, you don't have to hide) Did you watch the documentary on the RotK dvd where they show that brief cut out scene of Legolas and Gimli's drinking game? It's hilarious, I can't wait for the extended version to see it all.

Legolas' Garden Light – I have tried very hard to figure out why people (like you and me) love angst, and I have reached few conclusions. I even had a discussion going on with my reviewers about it during my last fic and have found few answers. We'll just have to keep liking it and not knowing why.

Wellduh… - I like your reviews. They're straight and to the point. Goes well with your username.

Cloud-123 – Did you get a free gift when you bought your dvd? I got a poster, one I didn't even have yet. It was sweet!

Star-Stallion – Well, no you can't let one little slap stop you from writing Legolas angst. In fact, I would use it for material to write more! Hope this chapter answered some of your questions, and be sure to come back for the next chappy when the real angst starts, and shows few signs of stopping.

Manderly – Thank you for reviewing, and reading both fics. Hope you'll enjoy this one just as much.

LOTRfaith – I don't know if you noticed, but your review actually inspired a few lines in this chapter, so thank you. And sorry, no Elrond or Elrohir or anything and let's pretend Faramir is away visiting someone I guess. All the characters have been introduced by now, so if someone's not here yet, they aren't invited.

Arayelle Lyn – I don't know if it's the first time he lost his patience with him, I have to imagine they get fed up with each other a lot. Especially before they became friends. Thanks for reviewing.

Snowy1909 – Man, I know what you mean about that 60's batman. Good times with the Bams and Poofs, I loved it.

Gozilla – I saw the part in the documentary! I almost turned it off because it's a pretty boring behind the scenes piece, but then that gem of a deleted scene popped up and I had to watch it twice just to be sure it was real. Am also excited for extended edition.

Happy Reviewer – Your username makes me smile. Hope you got your DVD by now and have enjoyed it several times. The Legolas Gimli scenes are the funnest to write, glad they're appreciated.

Niani – Well, you really don't get to find out what he burnt at all, since he burnt it, so sorry. Just glimpses of what it might have been. But the elf angst is coming. Oh yes, the elf angst is coming.

Thanks for all the fab reviews. As I said, the action's coming up and we finally meet the Mornarad in a … unique way. Hope to see you there. Robinyj


	5. Pursuit

Finally the fun stuff. The oh so very fun stuff! I'm so excited I won't keep you waiting with author's comments.

Overcoming Darkness

By Robinyj

Arwen swiftly made it to her husband's side after the deliverance of the horrible news that another citizen had been killed and took the king's arm in hers.

"Who was the victim?" Aragorn asked, over his shoulder, his back facing the group and his voice void of emotion.

"A boy on the lower level. A group of guards heard a scream, but when they arrived it was too late," Meretis explained, hating to bear such ill news.

"The symbol?" Legolas enquired.

The guard nodded, "It was there, drawn in blood as always. Ten lightning bolts piercing a circle."

"Ten," Aragorn muttered. So many to lose already, especially in a time of peace, but if three more should die, the Mornarad would be successful.

"Very good, Meretis. Go back to your duties, I will be there shortly," Aragorn said with little conviction, for he was obviously lost in thought. The hour had grown late as they sat in counsel and the king knew that they had done enough that night, for they were all weary from their travels and the hardships the day had presented.

"I believe we are finished for this night," Aragorn stated a few moments later, turning to all others in the room. "I will go and witness this crime for myself, and also offer my condolences to the child's family. You should all try to find what rest you may, for the day has been long, and tomorrow shows no signs of shortening." As he spoke of rest, the former ranger was careful not to look at Legolas, for the elf would take the comment badly if made directly.

The elf in question ensured he would be denied his wish though by stepping forward.

"I will come with you," Legolas offered, moving towards the doorway with the king. Aragorn sighed in exasperation as he took hold of his friend's arm. Despite the elf's assurances that he was well, Aragorn was of yet unconvinced he was in a completely healthy state, and did not wish to put him at any greater risk. He knew the best thing for the elf, and the hardest to get him to do, would be to stay in the palace and rest.

"Legolas …" he began what would clearly be a reprimand and a refusal of his company, but the elf cut him off before more could be said.

"Aragorn please do not treat me as a child with some grave illness that must be protected from the outside world. I have told you I am well, and I hope you would value my word enough to believe me of such things," Legolas said with the first signs of impatience. But his words spoke of truth, he was well for the time, though how long he would remain so under the pressure of Kirithnin's darkness was anyone's guess.

Seeing the truth in his eyes, Aragorn could not deny his friend, but he would set to him some limitations. Still holding the elf's arm he led him into the hallway, away from all listening ears and forced him to meet his gaze. Then, his voice low and serious, he began.

"Legolas, I have heard your words and know you speak the truth, but you have admitted also that Kirithnin is affecting you in ways as yet unknown. Now, I will not ask that you restrict your movements or stand by idly as this evil takes hold, but I will ask you to be careful. And I will have your word, your _promise_, that if these attacks persist, or grow in intensity that you will tell me immediately. I will not have you falling needlessly under this darkness, nor will I have you suffering in silence when your friends wish to offer you aid."

The elf was somewhat taken aback by the fierce passion in Aragorn's voice. It was clear he meant every word he had said, and they were spoken only out of concern and friendship, but Legolas found it hard to agree. For millennia he had been a warrior, an independent protector of others, and he found asking for help to be one of the hardest things for his proud nature to endure. Still, because of his love for the king, and their long standing friendship, he would honor Aragorn's request as best he could.

He tilted his head but did not break the man's gaze, "You have my word, and my thanks."

"Good. Let us go then," Aragorn bid him, leading the way down the hall.

Left alone in the conference room, Gimli looked to the Lady Arwen to excuse himself as well and was surprised to see her shoulders had suddenly slumped with weariness and her eyes were half lidded. He grumbled under his breath; clearly she had been withholding the true extent of her exhaustion from Aragorn, even after lecturing Legolas of the same thing, and he supposed it was now his duty to see to her.

"My lady," he began, stepping closer to her chair and offering his hand. "May I escort you back to your chambers? I do not think you have had quite as much rest as you need this evening."

She smiled at him, warming the dwarf's heart, and took the offered hand, making no attempt to deny her weariness.

"Thank you Gimli," she said with soft sincerity as they entered the hallway. Gimli dutifully took her to her room on the next floor. She thanked him again as he asked of her well being and was assured she was fine. He bid her a good night and then left the palace swiftly in hopes of catching up with Aragorn and Legolas.

--------------

Outside the palace walls, Meretis led the man and elf through the city to the next unfortunate victim. The lowest level was quite a journey from the palace and wanting to use as much speed as possible, the group had opted to make it on horseback. The night was not yet over so the blackness was thick on the streets and though the faded sun would not be rising for several more hours, citizens were already up, peering out of windows and doorways, knowing another murder had taken place and too disturbed to even attempt sleep once more.

The acting captain of the guard noticed the many glances his king sent in way of his citizens and said to him, "The people are understandably frightened, my lord. The murder took place just around this corner."

"They almost appear too scared," Legolas commented as he spotted a small child in a doorway with tears rolling down his cheeks.

Aragorn agreed, "It would take more than rumor and gossip to cause such fear. These people either saw or heard all that happened, and most likely did nothing in their terror. It would be best to speak to as many as possible; some one may have seen something vital."

Meretis nodded in agreement and promised to assign several men to the task.

"See that they take notes and have them report back to me," Aragorn added. Meretis made no reply as they had reached the site of the murder. A group of guards stood around the perimeter, keeping away any citizens that may have come to peer at the site. Thankfully, the people of Minas Tirith were either too terrified or respectful to do such things and their presence served only to mark the area of the site. In the center of the sanctioned off space a single trained guard was inspecting the scene, looking for clues of the perpetrators, or anything out of the ordinary. Next to him lay a body, covered respectfully by a black cloth and as yet untouched. Crimson blood trailed from beneath the covering, creating a red stream through the stone cracks that all were careful to avoid.

Aragorn took in a deep breath, dismounted from his horse, and then approached the horrid scene. Legolas freed himself of Jarinel as well, but left the king to inspect the body and nearby surroundings while he opted to walk about the perimeter, senses on full alert, and eyes scouring the ground and horizon.

Kneeling on the ground, Aragorn reached out and pulled back the sheet covering the body, relieved he did not recognize the blank and bloodied face staring back at him. The eyes of the boy were open, a deep hazel, and he looked not in peace but forever frozen in terror. Aragorn closed the boy's eyelids, then looked further, trying not to become ill. Blood was everywhere, on the ground, clothes and limbs of the boy, all stemming from the vacant hole in the child's chest where his heart had been beating soundly only hours ago.

Dropping the sheet back, Aragorn turned to the guard inspecting the scene and recalled his name as Garen, "Did you find anything?"

"Not yet, my lord. It is the same as all the others have been. The heart is cut out and no clues are left except for this," he pointed to the ground. A circle of blood, with ten piercing lightning bolts. Aragorn nodded, expecting as much; clearly these men, as sinister as they were, knew what they were doing and left behind no clues as to their identity.

"Do we know who the boy is?" he asked, staring at the lost soul once more.

Garen nodded, "Another of the guards recognized him as Yurin, son of Yuleth. He was thirteen."

Aragorn brought a clenched fist to his mouth to hold back his cries of indignation. He reached out a moment later and took hold of the sheet once more, noticing the boy's bloodied arm was not completely covered. Before hiding him away again, he saw the palm of the child's hand had been cut with a long gash and seemed noticeably burned.

"Is this normal?" he asked Garen, pointing to the burn marks.

"Yes, that is always there. We cannot fathom how it may be caused," the guard replied with a shrug.

Aragorn stood then, having seen all he needed. He had not truly hoped to find any clues or great revelations this night, but he had been determined to see for himself the crimes that were being committed in his city, and put a face to those being killed.

"Very good, all of you, carry on," he said to the guards in the area that had been given the grisly task of looking after the crime scene.

A dozen yards away, Legolas was slowly making his way down the opposite end of the street, away from the corpse and guards. With each step he took he scoured the ground closely in all directions, looking for dropped items or perhaps a footprint that had somehow been left behind, but he found nothing. Almost at the end of the street he stopped at a hay cart parked beside a storage building. He bent down and picked some of the hay off the ground, knowing someone had probably run into it and knocked the straw out. Now standing at full height, he froze and allowed the hay to fall to the ground as the very real feeling of being watched crept over him. He did not tense or give any indication that he sensed the boring eyes at his back, but focussed on listening to the sounds in the dark street. He blocked out all movement and noise to his right from Aragorn and his guards and then concentrated closely on all errant sounds to his left.

There it was.

The faintest hint of heavy breathing, caused by the worry of being discovered, the barest sound of a scuffle as nervous feet shifted on the cold stone – no more than 100 yards, behind him and to the left. Knowing where his watcher stood for sure, Legolas turned sharply and found his prey.

Barely visible peaking out from behind a building up the road, the man's eyes could be seen widening as his quarry turned and theirs eyes met. Legolas saw fear in the man. He feared discovery and he feared the elf, proving it was not simply a curious bystander that he was dealing with. That fear was all he needed and Legolas was moving, chasing after the man who just as quickly turned and fled down the alley he spied from.

"Aragorn, this way! Hurry!" Legolas shouted as he ran, not turning as he knew the former ranger had heard him and would follow. Reaching the mouth of the alleyway he saw the man was now at its end and turning right. Legolas did not slow in his pursuit, but grinned in satisfaction as he noted that he was much faster than the man and would catch up with him shortly.

Aragorn heard Legolas shout and turned just in time to see the elf disappear down the alleyway, clearly in pursuit of someone or something. The king leapt into action immediately, following as best he could and ordering his guards with him.

"Follow me!" the king shouted as he ran, only two guards did not follow him, knowing someone must remain to watch over the scene. It hardly mattered though, Aragorn was far ahead of them all, being in the finest shape, but Legolas and the man they pursued were many steps ahead of even him.

It was immediately after this outburst that Gimli arrived from the palace, having finally been able to track down his friends. He saw Aragorn and most of his guards take off down the street and asked one of the few remaining guards what was happening.

"The elf is chasing after one of the murderers," the guard replied swiftly. "Lord Elessar and the rest are also in pursuit but far behind."

"Damn elf, why does he get to have all the fun?" Gimli grumbled, but a mere headstart had never deterred him before and he also took off after the group.

"Stop!" Legolas shouted as he ran, though he knew it was most likely a futile act. The man was fast and though the elf was faster, the spy had a considerable head start and also seemed to know where he was going.

_He does not flee randomly, he's leading me somewhere. Perhaps some planned escape route, or some sort of trap. What a wonderful time I picked to leave my bow behind, _Legolas thought ruefully, as he ran without the comfort of the bow and quiver on his back. That did not mean he was defenceless, he still had his long knives, but would have to be much closer to use them properly.

Up ahead the man turned again, but Legolas was still gaining. Seeming to sense this, the elf's prey decided new tactics must be employed and stopped suddenly at a tall building. He pulled open the door and ran in, but could not risk taking the time to lock it.

Legolas had seen the man fairly clearly by now; he was average height and build, with straight brown hair that reached just past his ears. His clothes were common and not to be especially noted; it would be extremely easy for him to slip away should he find a crowd somewhere to hide in. The elf knew he could not let that happen. He hauled open the door, and rushed inside.

He found the building to be crowded and cluttered within. He saw no trace of his quarry, so did not move far from the doorway in case he waited in ambush. As his keen eyes scanned the room that was filled with large machines and sacks of grain and flour, his hand glided towards his back and freed one of his knives. The building was clearly a flour mill and the large number of machines, stacks of barrels and supplies made it possible for the man to be hiding anywhere. But he seemed to have no intention of hiding, he was still trying to make his escape as Legolas saw moments later.

At the far side of the room a ladder stood against a wall, leading to a large hole in the ceiling where equipment and supplies could be passed down. The man was on the first few rungs on the bottom and making his way up the long climb to the top. Legolas resheathed his knife; despite the monstrosities this man had committed if he was in fact a member of the Mornarad, the noble warrior in the elf would not allow him to strike down a fleeing enemy in the back. Instead he took chase once more, leaping over logs and flour bags to reach the man before it was too late. By the time he made it to the bottom of the ladder, the man was halfway up. Confident he could catch him, Legolas began to climb, focussed on his prey and only vaguely hearing the sound of the door to the building opening once more as Aragorn caught up in the chase. He saw his friend ascending the ladder, but did not spot the man they pursued.

"Legolas?" He called out in question, and also to alert him to his presence.

"He's on the roof!" Legolas called back, now almost at the top. Though he could see nothing yet, he heard the sound of the man's footfalls above him; he was already running again and Legolas was becoming tired of this chase. Pulling free his knife once more he climbed the last three rungs with only one hand. He reached the top to see his quarry was indeed running and had almost reached the next rooftop.

Balancing himself gracefully and appreciative of the sturdiness of the ladder, Legolas did not give chase but instead hefted up his long knife and with deadly accuracy launched it through the air. A scream of pain tore through the night as the blow landed as planned and the elf could see the hilt of the knife protruding from the man's left thigh as he fell to the ground. Legolas took another step up the ladder, as the man writhed in agony, his escape successfully halted.

The whistling of the wind and the soft scuffling of feet behind him was the only warning Legolas received before the pipe hit him. He had only turned enough to see the flash of metal and brief outline of a figure before the world dimmed, spun, and then exploded in pain as the man with the pipe struck him squarely in the temple, sending him spinning. All his senses seemed to leave him for a moment as the sudden shock to his system caused him to lose all ability for movement or thought. A moment passed and he was amazed to see that even with his mind unresponsive and dulled by agony, his hands had somehow known enough to stay tightly gripped to the ladder rungs and not let him fall. His safety was not permanent though as Legolas sensed the man behind him had pulled back to swing again. The next blow would undoubtedly knock the elf out completely, or even kill him if strong enough. Legolas could not bring up his arms in defence, for he would then drop to the hard stone below, and saw only one way to avoid the blow.

As the pipe neared his head for the second time he released his grip on the rungs and allowed himself to fall for only a moment, then quickly latched back onto the ladder. The movement had dropped him three rungs lower, but had saved his skull from being bloodied as the assailant missed him entirely. The man no longer had a clear shot of the elf's head, for he had dropped past the roof now, but needed to ensure that he and his companion would not be followed further, so he brought the pipe down one final time before he fled. The powerful blow landed soundly, as proven by Legolas's shocked exclamation of pain as his fingers were crushed by the relentless metal and his grip on the rungs had no hope of holding.

With his hands now useless, he tried to find some sort of hold with his legs, even as he felt himself falling, but his head was still pounding from the earlier blow and he found he had no balance. The air whistled by him, almost pulsing in time with the throbbing in his skull and hands.

He knew then he was falling, and it was a long way down.

--------------

Aragorn ran across the machinery filled room trying to reach Legolas and the man he pursued. The floor was littered with equipment and tools, making it hard to find a clear path. The former ranger had no trouble climbing over objects or skirting through the smallest spaces, but his guards entering behind him were moving extremely slow in comparison. It did not take long for Aragorn to reach the ladder on the far wall. He looked up and saw Legolas had reached the top. Sheathing his sword he moved to join him but stopped when the ladder shook and a sickening echo came from above. He looked up to see the elf slumped against the rungs, barely holding on, and for only an instance he could see a brief image of a man wielding some sort of weapon.

"Legolas!" Aragorn called out in surprise and nearly raced up the ladder, but sense and training held him back from following his instincts to aid his friend. Legolas's grip appeared weak, meaning he would most likely fall long before Aragorn could reach him and there was nothing below to break the elf's descent except for unforgiving stone.

Unsheathing Anduril once more Aragorn stepped back from the ladder and moved beside a high stack of bagged flour. The bags were kept upright only by the thick ropes holding them up and already they leaned unsteadily. Aragorn pulled back Anduril and severed the two thick ropes in a single slice, then swiftly moved away from the avalanche that would surely follow. Once a safe distance away he looked up once more just in time to see and hear the pipe strike again with sickening accuracy, this time against Legolas's knuckles. The elf's grip was lost immediately and he began to fall, just as the first few bags of flour fell in place below the ladder. Aragorn prayed it would be enough as his friend plummeted for what seemed hours and landed squarely on the landing pad provided. A great cloud of flour flew up in the air upon impact, but Aragorn was not so foolish to think it had been a soft landing. The flour had been packed hard and would have little give, but he may have saved his friend from several broken bones at least. The stack he had cut free was very high though and more bags continued to fall after the elf had landed, covering him and hiding him from sight.

"Legolas, can you hear me?" Aragorn called out when the avalanche had ended as he ran forward in search of the elf prince. His guards had made it through the clutter by now as well and helped him pull away the fallen bags and clear the clouds of flour from the air. A harsh coughing was their first hint to the elf's location and soon the group removed the last bag, finding a flour covered, coughing, moaning, but very much alive, Legolas beneath.

Aragorn reached for him to help him from the debris of the fall, "Legolas, are you hurt?"

The elf was still dazed but shook his head, still coughing for the moment and then looked up the ladder and announced, "You may still be able to catch them … one's wounded … they won't be moving fast."

"You heard him, get after them quickly, and be careful!" Aragorn ordered, his guards swift to comply. Garen and several others quickly began to ascend the ladder, while Meretis and several more went back outside to see if they could follow the fugitives' trail from there.

Meanwhile, Aragorn freed Legolas from the wreckage of his fall and put him onto solid ground once more. He had stopped coughing but now cringed as he held his hands motionlessly in front of him and more collapsed than sat when Aragorn guided him to the floor. The man reached up to probe the injury at the elf's temple, noting the blood that came from the wound. Legolas closed his eyes as it was inspected but did not flinch away.

There would be a mighty bruise in the morning, but Aragorn found no signs that the skull had been fractured in any way, which relieved him. Then he looked into his friend's eyes, noting their large size and slow response and sighed.

"Your head will be fine in time, but you have a note-worthy concussion," Aragorn reported, again gently prodding the elf's temple.

"Really? And I had thought the world had simply decided to start spinning without me," Legolas replied his voice sluggish but his lips curling in a smile at his own attempt at lightheartedness.

"Nay, t'is only you. I will prepare you some tea when we get back to the palace that should help with any pain you may feel," the man cringed as he moved his focus downwards. "Let me see your hands."

Aragorn reached down to pry the hands away from the elf's chest, but Legolas hissed in pain and his whole body flinched away, his arms still tight against him.

"Do not touch them, not yet. The initial hurt has not yet left, give me a few minutes more," Legolas requested. Having known such hurt before he was confident that the throbbing pain would soon relent and he would regain his mobility shortly.

Aragorn nodded, understanding. There was little that could be done to tend to such hurts truthfully, he was more eager to see for himself if any bones had been broken, for that would be grievous to the elf's spirit. He was about to suggest that Legolas should attempt to stand so they may get him back to the palace, but he turned to see the door to the building open once more admitting a slightly winded and upset dwarf.

"What is the meaning of this? How dare you go running off without me in such ways?" Gimli immediately launched into a tirade as he spotted his friends, no longer in pursuit of murderers but sitting around idly. "There was a time I recall when we hunted together. The three hunters we were. Now you are content to be just two I see. Well, do not reform on my behalf. I should … oh … I should …"

"But Gimli, we are the three hunters still," Legolas interrupted. "This is much as our trek across the plains, as I recall, for you seem to enjoy standing at the back and displaying your great strength as you fight to keep up with our pace."

Aragorn caught on and smiled, "We would hate to break our tradition in any way, after all."

The two expected the dwarf to reply with another biting comment and were surprised when he took several steps closer and changed the topic altogether, "Why elf, I hope my complaints about your food has not led you to attempt baking, for if so you are off to a rather bad start."

Legolas was confused for a moment and then noted Gimli's chuckle and inspected himself. He had not yet had time to look, or care, about his appearance but glancing now he saw he was covered from head to foot in a thick layer of flour. His hands were still in agony, giving him no way of brushing himself clean at the moment, so he went along with the jest.

"I did try and have not quite succeeded as you can see, but at least I brought enough food to perhaps _begin_ to feed your mighty appetite," the elf smirked, indicating the dozens of bags of flour littering the floor. Gimli laughed, taking the comment with a good heart as he finally reached the two. Legolas was yet to rise, patiently waiting for his hands to stop throbbing so he may push himself up on his power. The pain was relenting, but slowly. Aragorn stood to meet the dwarf though and the jest left his stout frame as he finally noted the blood dripping down the elf's head, and the way he cradled his hands to his chest.

"What happened to you both?" Gimli asked finally, not seeing any reasonable way of putting together the pieces before him. Legolas was injured and covered with flour, Aragorn had a mild sprinkling of white powder and was uninjured, the guards were running off in all directions, and there was not a member of the Mornarad in sight.

"I suppose we have been hunting. I found a man was spying on us as we investigated the crime scene in the street. He fled with fear when I spotted him; I have no doubts he works for the Mornarad or is one of them," Legolas replied. He stopped talking when a wave of nausea rolled over him, but Gimli thought he had meant to pause and groaned.

"I do enjoy your dramatic gestures, elf, but please continue," Gimli said gruffly. Seeing Legolas's state, Aragorn continued for him.

"He took chase after the man and followed him here. He tried to escape on the roof and when Legolas went to follow the man attacked him."

"Nay," Legolas proclaimed, finding his voice once more. "There were two. One waited for me at the top while the other fled to draw my gaze. I struck the first with my knife, but the second came from nowhere." He did not look up when he spoke but was concentrating on his hands, which he had pulled away from his chest and now stretched ever so slowly.

Aragorn pondered that for a moment. It was a good plan of escape, and very well executed, as proof of both men's disappearance. It had almost a strategic, military calculus to it. He shook away such thoughts for the time, "Either way, you fell from the ladder and are now in your present state."

Gimli looked up at the ceiling; it was very high, as such factories need be to fit all their equipment, and the dwarf did not want to imagine falling from such a height. "And the flour?" he asked, motioning towards Legolas and his soiled clothing.

"I suppose, I am to thank for that. I cut the bags free when I saw he might fall," Aragorn said, only now truly realizing the mess he had made as he looked over the clutter of the floor.

Legolas began to pull his feet underneath him, now content with the movement he found in his hands. He stood slowly but without support, brushing away the helping hands of both his friends, and then met Aragorn's gaze, "You have my sincere thanks, Aragorn. My landing would not have been so enjoyable if not for your aid."

Aragorn tilted his head in acceptance; both knew no such gratitude was necessary between them, but it was appreciated.

"Your hands?" the king asked, noting they now hung free at his sides.

Legolas lifted them and flexed the muscles slowly, still in pain, but proving they were functional, "Nothing broken, my bow shall be wielded with the same skill it was before."

"Which was not very much to begin with," Gimli said in jest, but Legolas's head was still throbbing and he did not have the energy to engage the dwarf in their game of wits, so let the comment stand without reply. Gimli was clearly put out by this, and appeared apologetic for trying to contest the elf while injured.

Legolas tried to stretch out his back and legs, finding them stiff and incredibly sore. He froze as a stabbing pain shot through his spine, and wondered if he was perhaps hurt more deeply than he thought.

Aragorn had not yet left his side and showed no signs of doing so, and saw when he grimaced, "Are you hurt elsewhere?"

Trying to straighten, Legolas shook his head, "Nay, only bruises."

Aragorn lifted an eyebrow; his face showed a considerable amount of pain for just bruises. Legolas noticed this and met his gaze, and when the man would not relent, added, "They are large bruises."

Despite appearances, Aragorn believed him about his injuries but just to be certain asked, "Do you recall the promise I had you make?"

"Yes Aragorn," Legolas replied, somewhat exasperated. "I was not struck so hard as to forget such things. I am sore, nothing else."

Gimli scoffed, but Aragorn was content it was the truth. Again the door to the building opened, admitting Meretis and his men, none looking enthusiastic or proud in the least.

"I take it you did not find them," Aragorn guessed by their crestfallen appearance and lack of prisoners. Behind the three companions the other guards were returning down the ladder once more, also empty-handed.

"No, my lord," Meretis replied, sounding ashamed. "They seemed ready for escape, they had their routes chosen well, and disappeared in areas we could not easily follow."

"We encountered the same," Garen added from behind. "We found blood on the roof, but beyond that they left no trail or sign of where they may have gone."

"Did you find my knife, by chance?" Legolas asked, trying to sound casual but Aragorn and Gimli both sensed his desperate hope. The guard shook his head.

"There was nothing."

Legolas nodded but made no reply. Visibly he was unaffected, but his friends knew he was grieved by the loss for not only did Legolas use his weapons, he made them a part of himself, as did the man and dwarf.

"We'll get you a new one, even shinier than the last," Gimli promised at his side, forcing the elf to smile.

"Come then, there seems nothing more for us to do here," Aragorn announced despondently, greatly grieved that they had lost their prey, for they would have been of immeasurable aid in stopping these madmen. His guards bowed in consent as always, and filed from the mill. As Meretis passed Aragorn stopped him and added, "Remind me also to ensure the owners of this place are reimbursed for their losses."

"Of course, Lord Elessar," Meretis said and was dismissed. Aragorn turned his attention to his two remaining companions, frowning when he found Legolas now leaning against the dwarf's strong shoulder.

Joining his other side, the king asked, "Can you make it back to the palace?"

Legolas nodded, "My strength will hold, I need only guidance for the world still slants beneath me."

The concussion the elf suffered was indeed severe Aragorn thought as he again checked the injury, noting the fast spreading bruise and severe dilation of the eyes, but he was also confident Legolas would not be long affected by it, for the prince was known for having a head not easily dented.

"We will not move too swiftly then, but we must go," Aragorn said, leading the way and holding open the door for his friends. They arrived back at the murder site a few minutes after the guards, but the men had taken the time to prepare their horses so they may hurry back to the palace. None would say it aloud, but all knew that the king and dwarf would be anxious to ply the elf with healing herbs and send him to rest, and that Legolas would be just as determined to avoid their ministrations at all costs.

"Come laddie, your beast awaits," Gimli grumbled upon seeing Jarinel with the other horses. Legolas smiled though and patted the horse's muzzle affectionately. Then the animal sneezed and a cloud of flour flew up from the elf's clothes. The three companions chuckled for Legolas had yet to try and rid himself of the flour that covered him, making him still appear rather ridiculous.

"I am sorry for the state you find me in, my friend, but it was not by choice," Legolas whispered to Jarinel.

Aragorn took the reins of his horse from Meretis and quickly mounted while the elf stroked Jarinel's mane once more and whispered softly to it in elvish.

A young guard stood near the horse and elf, shuffling his feet as if nervous. He had been put in charge of readying Jarinel for the ride back to the palace and had just spent a panicked few minutes searching in vain for the horse's saddle, which of course did not exist. The young man did not know this and was ready to step forward and apologize for his carelessness, but before he could speak the elf had mounted the horse with infinite grace, despite his injuries, and was sitting tall and proud upon its back, seemingly needless of saddle or rein.

The older guards laughed inwardly, having seen the distress of their companion but choosing to say nothing; they took great joy in the look of surprise and relief on the young man, who now knew slightly more about the Eldar.

Gimli came to the side of the horse, watching the elf closely to see that he was steady. After closing his eyes for a moment to try and find that perfect balance all elves had, Legolas looked down to see Gimli beside him. He put out his hand to help the dwarf up, but Gimli hesitated.

"I can ride with Aragorn if you like," Gimli said, not wanting to burden the elf who still had to make it to the palace with his injuries unchecked.

"Come, you hate riding with saddle almost as much as I. Besides, you can assure me that Jarinel moves straight ahead as we go, for in my mind I am sure our path will appear crooked," Legolas said, not withdrawing his hand. Clearly the elf's vision had yet to right itself and Gimli was eager to be of assistance so took the hand, missed Legolas's wince as his fingers were tested, and took up his place behind the elf.

Aragorn trotted over to the pair, "Are you ready my friends?"

Legolas leaned closer to Jarinel's ear and whispered, "Aphad Aragorn. Im u maer an tegi."

The horse whinnied in response. Legolas then turned to Aragorn, "Quite ready."

They made it back to the palace without incident and with little conversation. It was not only the concussed eyes of the elf that appeared longing for rest, but the guards, king and dwarf all rode with weariness as well. The day had been long, the night even longer, and the next day would most likely bring more of the same, which none looked forward to.

They had barely three nights left to stop the Mornarad from plunging the world into darkness, as they had begun in Gondor. And though the three friends, and all of Minas Tirith, were desperate to stop them, all had to admit, they had no idea how.

TBC

Follow Aragorn. I am not fit to guide you.

Oh, this has been so fun to write so far! Well, I got this chapter out today which I was happy about, but I am moving to a new house tomorrow so please bear with me if the next chapter is not ready for some time. I don't know when I'll have internet again and I'm scared. hugs her internet I'll get you back somehow!

Anyway, onto my great reviewers! Oh, and thank you all for proving me right about the quote. My silly friend didn't know what she was talking about, 'pointy arrows', ha!

Reviewers (all of whom will receive virtual cookies and hugs):

Firnsarnien –Oh, I'm sorry the boy couldn't live, the Mornarad needed their sacrifice after all. Your gleefulness about Legolas's sickness makes me smile and get all giddy again just thinking about it. That's a good theory about the future of the fic (everyone seems to be trying to figure this one out) but as with everyone else, you will be getting no hints. Your enthusiasm is much appreciated though, as well as your long review.

Kelsey – You also have intriguing theories about this fic, but I must respond with 'no comment'. You'll just have to keep reading. By nature, I meant what us humans would think of, like mother nature. The trees, the wind, the soil. I'm afraid some of my tolkien knowledge is limited and I don't know the differences between your options really. But as the evil spreads first the plants die, the sun fades, then when it becomes all powerful (after the last sacrifice) the people would then start dying as well.

Yutine – Well no worries about that elf torture. There's more to come too.

Happy Reviewer – I am also not a huge Arwen fan, not sure either, but I felt she was needed in the story, if not to expose Legolas than to comfort Aragorn. Also, she does have a small part to play but not until near the end if my plot doesn't change on me. Many thanks for liking my helm's deep vignette as well. They won't even tell us when the EE DVD comes out! They're like "The Holidays" which holidays? When? It's not fair. (I'll stop whining now)

Cosmic Castaway – I did take too long I'm sorry, please read this chapter slowly then, for as I said the next one may be some time with me moving and all.

Punk Rock Pirate – Thanks for answering my question, much appreciated. And I did update so I hope you enjoyed.

Niani – Hope this was enough elf angst for now, more is to come in future chapters. Watching movies with subtitles, that's interesting, I can understand too because sometimes people are mumbling and you really don't want to miss those important lines. Really the only movie I do that for is BlackHawk Down, mostly because for the life of me I couldn't understand them on my first viewing and I didn't want to miss Orli's or Ewan's lines.

Legolas's garden light – I appreciate that you thought my filler wasn't boring. They're the more difficult chapters to write and try to make interesting and I'm glad it worked. Legolas angst is pretty much in the story no matter what. Even if the Mornarad don't do anything to Legolas I would probably just strike him with lightning or something and say that god likes h/c too.

Joee1 – "Shameless Legolas torture"? Me? puts on a halo and wings I could never hurt that poor elf, it's the nasty characters in my story that do it. No, I do not believe Legolas to be the youngest elf in Arda, but the angst will come either way.

Lady-Daine – Please, point out all you like! I really try to get my tolkien facts right so I don't mind at all when people correct me. I had heard several different views on what happens to Arwen when she becomes mortal and not knowing the right one just fit the specifics to fit my story, but I appreciate the facts. And I'm glad you didn't think the last chapter was boring, I was kind of worried it would be. And thank you for all your kind words on my writing style, it greatly boosts my confidence when writing.

Snow-Glory – Yes, the drinking game scene (while brief) is shown somewhat on the DVD. There's a documentary, which is really boring as a whole, but they talk about Legolas and Gimli's friendship and then show a good chunk of the scene. Legolas is really uncomfortable in a room full of drunk men and Gimli's gets him to drink, it's great. You are right though, Legolas and Gimli will never stop fighting. I can imagine Gimli putting an insult on his tombstone just to get in the last word. Arwen will play a slightly larger role, but not until near the end, I am keeping her around for a reason though.

Wellduh… - I never find your reviews sound sour. They're just right.

Star-Stallion – Hope this was enough Leggy angst for the time. I try to pack enough in to satisfy the angst quench, but you also have to be careful to keep him mobile so he can get hurt more later.

LotrFaith – Answer to your questions: Legolas feels the darkness because he is the only full elf in Gondor, it really has nothing to do with Brelan. Yes, Legolas (and Arwen slightly) get very weak and can feel it when the Mornarad murder a new person, that's what happened on the stairs in chapter 3. He recovers a few moments later, but is a little bit weaker. The victims are not intentionally getting younger, but with Minas Tirith in such a state of fear the Mornarad's pickings for sacrifices are getting thin. The babies will attempt to be protected but there's no guarantees is there? I don't mind answering questions, I just won't give away any major future events. Your interest and time is greatly appreciated though.

Templa Otmena – Your reviews are so helpful! When you point out the strong things in each chapter I go back and read them to see what makes them good and it helps me run more like that in the long run. I am sorry I had to kill the boy so mercilessly, but the Mornarad are .. well …merciless. Don't worry about not reviewing, I understand. I probably won't be around for awhile as is.

Deana – So impatient. I post a new chapter and all you want is more, more, more. It's okay though, I do the same to other authors.

Also thanks to NycteaScandiaca, Leela74, Soar, Sylvester1, hobbitkiller, gwyn, and imcristiel for your reviews.

Love you all, please tell me what you think. More angst, less angst, have I found the perfect angst balance? Should I stop using the word angst so much? It's up to you!!! Many thanks, Robinyj :-)


End file.
